i keep reading andrei codrescu
without any hope
of it meaning
much
i keep shaking my father’s
hand
in my dreams
nothing said yet we smile
i keep struggling
to understand why
people do things
they hate
i keep looking down at money
like
“what the fuck is this shit?”
i keep chanting
greenbacks is pussy is heaven
language doesn’t just die
but certain sounds never
are heard again
___
Stephen Okawa is a garbage man from Dorchester, MA. His worked has appeared in The Main Street Rag, WordEater, Breadcrumb Scabs, Boston Poetry Magazine, and others.
