Food Court

It’s a perfect temperature in here

And everything is clean

Except the souls

When you open the cabinets

There’s every can imaginable

Rows and rows of tomatoes

They ask me to make them 

Bread and eggs

But all that I can see 

Are cans and yellow trays

Everyone starts singing

Including the hungry

My soul is as clean 

As the refrigerated walls

And I tell them all so

Suddenly eggs appear

I crack each one

Into a yellow tray

You know I love 

A tortured love story 

But this isn’t what I planned for

In the middle of the accident

I crack another egg

On the head of a disbeliever

Everything is perfectly adequate

I stir my lukewarm cereal

My soul is as clean as the spring

I tell no one that

Because no one ever listened

I crack an egg into the air

It drops like an accident

Because no one ever loved it

I say to no one at all

You know I love a tortured story

I think to write it down

Instead I crack this egg

Here for you

So don’t be sorry

Just take the lukewarm pudding

And think of me

I’m all alone here

Maybe for forever 

I crack this lukewarm story

Into your bowl

And you sop it up

I know you love a love story

You sop up my blood pudding

With my head 

Prediction

Divination is one hell of a drug

But is it also a sort of proof?

Woman whose mask is in a grin

Woman wearing The Scream 

But she’s talking and the face doesn’t move

Then we realize that it’s not a mask but her face

You might think this is the dream

But this is real

Eyes in focus towards the road

Such gorgeous stems of wheat and roses

You get up and you go down again 

The moon on its side tells you each direction

I was looking for something

But knew I’d never find it

A house that sits plainly

Against the day and night

Three windows hold the eyes 

Going in and out

Whifts of leaf-scented air 

Amass at the doorway 

All you need is one warm night

The voice says: You will have many