THREE POEMS by SHINE BALLARD

blur

passengered on a bus,

eyes focused on—

a staring, attempty gaze—

nothing in particular,

i’m simply glimpsing a world

too leaving to be languid—

buildings—façades—sidewalksandalleys—

long exposed livestrailing, striae of being

all those people slurring,

treadmilling, whose destination

reels in reverse—zoetroped,

thoseanthropes,

to my stare, slide—

oblivious to the vacuous suck

which inhales them wholly—

an insatiable cycle

of every place just viewed beyond

---

ajar

the doorjamb

of the room formed

open, receiving—

a

jar

filled overflowing

with the viscid variegated jelly

of existence, experience

internal mutterings, muddled

heres & theres,

dones & willdos :

the masceratedmelange of

—must

no one enters the room :

indifferent

we are,

all of us,

predilected

no one enters the room : un

armed

we are,

all of us,

loaded

none innocent

we are,

all of us,

guilty of

beingliving

---

burnblind

That warmth

at the nape

is not the torrid breath

of un amoureux—

rather the consequence

of a selflitflame.

You've become spellbound,

besotted by

your flickeringfailing

and have become absorbed

by its fumes.

Indulge! indulge!

you chauvinistwretch—

for soon you will

be deluged.

---

Shine Ballard, superblyoperose, currently creates and resides on this plane(t). @xShine14