The Obituary Hunter

To wake up
and stare at their faces
Is something to crave

To know they will never
breath again
Provides me with purpose

I take over their ambiance
their feelings
and beliefs

And fulfill their entity
for the remainder of my day

Tomorrow I will find
another soul to keep
in the black and white section

I call my home.

Untitled (How Very Pretentious of Me)

Don’t drop the laptop!
I repeat
I cringe.
So daring to take her out with me
On my makeshift balcony.
Helps me think.
What’s better than fresh air
Truck sounds
Dirt particles from construction underway
Under foot
Barks
Bike chains
Bellows.
Helps me think.
Sergeant, vagabond, keep yelling
Keep yelling I say!
Helps me think.
Helps me think.