GETTING TO BE ME
It’s five-fifteen in the morning,
January 1st, 2000.
Dawn goes from my very own private o’clock
to something for everyone.
Stars melt.
Moon’s a pale disk.
Birds emerge from their cubbyholes.
Time’s moved forward by song,
activity at the feeder.
Still no energy on my part,
yet I cannot just ignore myself.
I need to shave, dress, breakfast.
A hawk is perched atop a nearby light pole.
I feel like prey.
Then I rub my eyes, yawn,
wash my face.
I’m not just one more sparrow
grabbing seed.
Sorry to disappoint the raptor.
GENERATION NEXT TABLE AT THE COFFEE HOUSE
It's nothing new.
It was the same for our parents
and their parents before them.
Born with limited aspirations
and always thinking
if only...
Our only hope is a pop star.
Good-looking,
TV and magazine-cover friendly,
music freely downloadable -
we are not discriminating.
Anyone
who meets the criteria
will do. '
Despite everything,
we are a fan-loving
easily led people,
raised on 6h.eap sentiment,
clever with I-phones
and we really do love our beats.
John Grey is an Australian poet, US resident, recently published in New World Writing, North Dakota Quarterly and Lost Pilots. Latest books, ”Between Two Fires”, “Covert” and “Memory Outside The Head” are available through Amazon. Work upcoming in California Quarterly, Seventh Quarry, La Presa and Doubly Mad.
