Poetry
The truth you share
Can beauty compare
to clean air?
let’s meet soon and go for a stroll and lay down by the river on a blanket with holes and torn parts
and as friends hear the ages-
the ripples on the rocks or the noise eliminating all the hearts of others
In pain and ill repair.
Let the surges tongue slip into the rapids
Someone will always be vapid
A viper
A course without a cause
Someone Sees love for the first time
Like a baby spanning the mothers
Oculus
Someone vapes
Someone escapes
Someone lusts
Someone
Busts
Blood on bricks
Lineage on a list
Someone hesitates
But the rocks are always
stationary
Memories
The monolith is celebrated more than a
memorial stone
A golden submarine is not not a
Boat
when so many tilt
against the wind
Where does humanity lean it’s ear
Where is the fanfare I fear?
Does money make a mark or smear
The robots mascara
Is this the insipid moment where
All the Chanels are in flux
A rag soaks the blood faster
Than the silk
Francis A Willey
July 4 2023