the internality
deep
in the earth
total
darkness
without light
you only
feel
your way
you bump
you circle
you change directions
to no avail
without light
comes
despair
don’t give up
maybe
one day
a breeze
follow it
a stronger breeze
despite total darkness
hope
still
lives
casino of being
one
to another
to another
life
death
long
short
pleasure pain
joy suffering
despair
unequal cards
dealt
by the master croupier
of chance
felt
as the whole of a life
each
ode to those above
fly
over us
in your glory of god
pinstriped helicopters
wallow
in pleasure palaces
we cut the grass of
pin tails on donkeys
in parlor games
we serve the food for
you
decreed
zero sum games
grabbed the sums
bequeathed us
zero
we are
the blinded people
plowing toasters into your soil
smelling oats like cattle
frozen
in time
you trestle
over
our pestilences
by divine right of rich
we grow old
sit in sheds
w
a
i
t
i
n
g
Ron Torrence published his first short story at 50 and his first poem at 80. Even so, his fiction, poetry, and nonfiction is pretty widely published.
