June 12, 2008


i wish i could write the saddest verses tonight
but i just can't
i have travelled for maybe an hour on a bus
looking out of the window, biting my already short fingernails
staring at the lightpoles, the deadly yellowish light
the homeless digging inside trash containers
people like zombies trolling the streets
their faces erased with boredeom and gloom
i have travelled and then walked a few blocks
hiding my face from the damp wind of the river like a sea
we the people are the worst plague on this earth
i walk the stairs to my apartment
i heat frozen food in a microwave oven
i eat and leave my dish unfinished
brush my teeth
and curl inside my bed
wishing i could feel different
or at least
feel something

john michael roberts (Los Angeles, CA, 1968)