Be-Ing.... Poem by RIC BASTASA

it is a blackout
in the city
there is no air
in the condominium
room where
you are renting
depressed
over lots of things
losing a job
death of a sister
pile of debts
collection agents
on the row
bad news from
your small town
the rebels are
killing the farmers
and there will be
no rice harvest
this season
you lie in bed
your eyes do not
close
you look for an
opening
somewhere else
there must be
sort of an exit
that your fingers
can find

someday

the lights turn on
the room is
well lighted now
there are no
exits for
this fire
and it is consuming
every part of
your
body your being
stops.