MARTYRS

Dig The
prayer beads in
calloused hands
no choir
or stained glass
just machines

He sits
on break with
the bible
I sit
silently
reading Marx

Not much
difference
between us
we’re both
looking for
deliverance

We’re both
suffering
our own sins
we’re both
martyrs for
industry

We’re both
martyrs for

America
_______________________________________________________

A FEELING OF EMPTINESS IS STILL A FEELING

More than this
weathered vessel
we are shaped by
what we are not
like an empty bottle
made whole from
it’s absence or

That tiny hole
in your heart
where poems
are birthed in
from the union
of desperation
and futility or the

Window in your
home made whole
from what it is not
a hole from which
the outside can
flow in and let
the fresh air
flow inside
_______________________________________________________

BETTER THAN THIS

Behind the
old factory
on highways
car after car

The doppler
of engines
tires gliding
over asphalt

Sleek rides
rolling so
far away
from here

If they’d
step just a
little harder
on the pedal

Just maybe
they could
outrun the
reaper

Amidst
the motion
is me sitting
silently

Separated
by fencing
and tyranny
of time clocks

I listen
to roaring
engines sing
me a song

Futile and
romantic
infinitely
better than

this

 

 

Wayne Mason is a writer and factory worker from central Florida, when
he grows up he wants to be Kannon. His work has been published
throughout the small press and he is author of several chapbooks, the
most recent Poet Laureate Of A Dirty Garage is now available from
Erbacce Press. You can check out more of his stuff here:

http://brokenzen.wordpress.com