Reflections

The reflections in the windows
on a lit train after dark...

UNBEARABLE!

Looking into a partial you,
half empty,
going nowhere,
devoid of humanity.

These reflections of us
(of me... always, only, me)
Deranged in their
twisting blur...

My eye was once a clock
on a platform to leave

Running from a reflection
is a fool's errand.
I - the fool - have errands:
a purpose when no other
presents itself.

The winter commmute
is a dreadful future.
Fantasies of usefulness
entangled in a manipulative love...

OH! You Savage Moon!
You laugh at my
childish insecurities!
Your filthy starring fascist face...
knowing... knowing it all!
All the futures,
missed opportunities,
You spying creepy motherfucker!

Curses upon your worshipers.