He Who Knows He Who Cares Poem by Lon Yankofsky

I haven't a clue why I do this
But I do it anyway
Waiting to find out,
Waiting for that chilling moment
When you look at yourself and understand.
You are nothing more than the cheap
Disguise
Everyone sees through anyhow.
That realization
Seeing everything you thought
You were you're not.

The degree and depth of isolation
In oxygen free
Hermetic chambers
Hermeneutically sealed display
Booths
At rest stops on the Garden State Parkway
Returning or going to the shore
Late in the evening
Wandering through the gift and convenience
Shop.
***

A golden wash
Across the sky
Spears of light through the timber
I look into your three blue Eyes.
The scene is the city of Montreal
Deep in the heart of winter.
Walking down the rush hour street
From the hospital after work.
There I go
Into the ice cream store
And leave with a vanilla cone.
Licking my tongue:
Ice cream makes everything but ice cream melt
Away.
The world and all worlds fade.
This is a lifetime later
This is dedicated to you.
Sixteen to twenty years together
Binds people like crazy glue
It has much to speak of!
I see a dog
Two men
One woman
One cat.
Invisible lines to naked eyes,
Yet too many lines projecting,
Connecting,
Creating irregular polygons
No one feels comfortable in.
Condensed
Heavy black unseen matters
Swallow yesterday
Today
Blasted into tomorrow which is always
Now.
Nearly a loss I sit here -
A widows never ending tear in the corner of one eye.
I will have to go inside and
Hide someplace
Unknown to myself.