James Daniel Brough Poems

I judged meticulously.
I served in every jury.
I soaked the footprints into my socks.
I wiped my soles and left
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Conformity
Milgrim Experiment
Day job
450 volts
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She's on the horizon
Don't lose perspective

Keep busy
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I’m a Cancerian
A chess player on ecstasy
A romance with the middle pages missing
I forget how the pieces move
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A movement within a movement
One motion disguised by another
One obscures the other
It's the perfect balance
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You always held the cards.
I did my best. Persevered.
I stared at the backs of them trying to read your eyes through a thousand wires and connections.
But the result was always fixed and pre-determined.
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In the club the people find music EVERYWHERE
They find it hiding in a pretty girl’s hair. They find it by rubbing against the grain of the wood of the bar, or congealed in the tread of their shoes. They find it hiding under candles and in people’s bags.
It’s caught sleeping on top of the CD surfaces.
It’s everywhere.
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Some days I feel like a pilot in a remote control plane, being flown by a little boy who often forgets to charge the batteries let alone bother to fly it properly.
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Older Colder Stronger
Emotionally Shorted
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