Checkered Existences Poem by RIC BASTASA

what we always see here are blocks
blue straight lines blurring
on a crisscross of other blurring blue lines
square jawed abstracted as same squares
nothing delineated
no tendrils here just trunks and trunks
squared and
straightened with so much grief
and regret
feeling the loss of other forms and shapes
like circles or irregular patterns
of the weaknesses of humanity
(purposely you are made not to understand
the rationale for delineated patterns)
gaping mouth, shocked hairs, cut nails,
hammering screams of
abandoned children inside that egg-shelled
room
opaque, vague and begging for a clarification
he comes with a shaking shoulder and says 'You are right there is nothing
in there'

it is dark, and the world is stark
people work so hard to understand and find the reasons

ah, this arrival at nothing like the way your lover tells you
meet me there i will give you love and lots of what you desire
only to find out

'this is just imagined' a joke, a bluff, did you not know that?

the table on checkered mantel
polka dots dress of the fat spinster on the first day of the year
luck is still hoping.