Remain Calm (day 1333)

In the end of all of it I had a reason.
There were two dots crossed off a long list of imaginations
And the cowboy had everything left to lose should it fail.

But that wasn’t the event there that day, you see,
A long riflesman came staggering in as the town watched
Thinking to themselves about a memory they all-to-quickly refused to listen to.

I couldn’t help but think that I was an envelope,
A whisper sealed away awaiting some sort of lucky ticket holder.
My eyes remained calm as time’s length pushed on.

Crimson was the colour of noon’s high sun.
Picking pockets like a Bazaar thief in Catholic quarters;
The city clinched tighter.

There once was an island inside of my dreams,
Floating with unseen amounts of impossibilities.
I was homesick. I wasn’t allowed to be there anymore.

So for now they sang, in cool shade of a willow tree.
And a stable meant for their local butcher
Fed the gatherers, who all at once came.

Dust kicked up my hallow heart’s worms and sheered into the edge;
At once I was offered fine takings
And imagined I was an elder.

In a Foreign Land (day 1276)

A large laneway spoiled my walk.
It burst open at the seams with
Garbage and decay
That nearly side swiped me
With unbridled consumption.

The laneway confused me
As I contemplated it a while
From the safe sidewalk on Main Street.
It steamed and gurgled and
A faint smell of piss and regret
Hissed at me with a cold bite in the air.

From here, my memory served me well. It reminded me of cannons
And a bazaar in a foreign land
That was purely barbaric,
Entirely rusty and soiled from
Years of neglected abuse.

In my idle moments I watched
Three souls wander the laneway
With as much passion
As one would expect lost souls
From Christ the Redeemer’s
Empathetic sermon to have.

And I was alone, wondering,
Thinking to myself in the 1-2-1 rhythm
Of my left-right-left leather soles
Clip clopping down the lonely laneway
Into obscurity and steam.