Weeping in the plastic shards
of afternoon
there is the street below
mostly empty views
are afforded to me
the black glass
boxes almost become
faces
bombs are dropped
in the Middle East
today
nothing I say
can rectify your worn out situations
a rosary lays untouched
on the table
in my brain
I walk
to the kitchen
open a bottle
of pills
it says it is sealed
for my protection
maybe I don’t want that
kind of reassurance
everything leaks
eventually
leaking
is just a matter
of living
and somewhere
in my heart
bombs are dropped
in the Middle East
today
nothing I say.