in retrospect, maybe we are all Buddha’s

by Ken Michael

out back
I can hear
a
21 gun salute
for autumn's
Casualties
exploding
into the Soulless
morning.
the shattered
Emptiness
hauls
my eyes Away
from the
______
dust
Dancing
on the table
Contently Departing
with it Self
every time it
strides with the breeze
of the fan.
No New children are Born
Devolution is steadily in motion
Wasting away with the sun.
_____
the gunshots
were just
a
warning
from the oblivious
frogs
on the shoreline.
really
what lay about
the Defining
brunch
are a group
of kids
Huddled
around a table
In the alley
with steel bats
and Broken
teeth.
Laughter
and the
bones Shattering
cracking the Silence
of the new noon
reaches
The curiosity
of all
the residence.
I open up
my window
and ask them
what’s the deal?
we're getting Fucked Up
one replies.
I yell back disgusted
fucking dumbasses
Grow some
fucking
sense.
A-Bombs of laughter
engrave the moment
in the
alley
while shutters
of windows
Burn it to the street.
____
“PUSSY!”
____
I sit back
at my table
grab a nug of doedee
and load a Bowl
“fucking kids
are destroying
the
World”