Two Poems

On the drizzly gray bridge

topping a thousand feet

a thousand angry cars and

a hearse, “Harvey, RIP”.

The hearse holding Harvey pulls forward,

and reveals a lady begging.

I pull out my wallet,

but only moths do I see.

Then I recall the apple

some red for nibbling; 

open palm I hold it

for her to plainly see.

But shoulders fall and

her sad reply cuts:

“I’m sorry, I have no teeth.”

____________________

The cavernous underground,

scarcely alit by the soles of midnight riders

is filled the grunts and screams:

a twisted man wrestles the needle in the corner.

The fiery snake dives into his arm,

soars through his veins and wraps his throat,

choking him to death to death to death….

lilting quiet muzak coats the tracks with midnight snow.

Published September 21st 2022