poetry from another dimension


concrete cave travels

shoulder brushing almost knews

a thousand shades of gray

green city.  Make a million, own a tree


she brushes your shoulder

possibility, and eludes your grasp

moving on to the next fellow

lady fortune

blessings at random, or so it seems


connections always there

and never happening


a place to stay single


and free


a place to hone your

who you ares

and wave the flag of your identity

seen maybe by the ones or twos

who come out to see you

heard maybe here or there


the struggle to be seen and heard

among the multitudes of wanna be’s

thinking it will be easier to be seen in a crowd.

a foolish endeavor indeed.


a single voice in a canyon of few bounces

in infinite echos….heard by those miles away


it never happens

the way you think

it will



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