Complacent

Oh, hey there, jet stream

Looks like you got left

Behind with me.

And we’re just fixed

Here unintentionally

like predetermined

objects pasted on

with miles of smiles.

And don’t you know

That we can go.

Anywhere.

Anytime.

But let’s just stay awhile

And we’ll make the most

of a blue sky.

Friendly Fire

She wraps her dreams in cellophane,

Sending them off like toy soldiers

camouflaged in brown paper bags.

But every war is started by someone

older; the young are lost on foreign

soil, grasping for meaning (or maybe

not) that is thrust upon their backs;

the dead weight of yesterday

is screaming for the light.