the music’s just stopped

and right before it ended

the room began to cry

the dread of the quiet

of the time to think and recollect

and remember the broken things

the crack in the ceiling

the dust on the television

the dirty stinking pile of clothes

and the empty glasses and bottle

i felt its anguish, its disgust for me

my things and my ways

and humbly cut the music back on

setting it to repeat all as the night wore away

(11.07.09) w. by, Charles Case

i live in a world

where the presence of light-

-ers has been replaced

by cell phone displays.

there is no life for us,

the generated youth

that updates and comments

their privacy to nothingness

that calls its leaders

to be leaders, not disappoint-

-ers, as they all are

and so we will grow into it

find degrees and meaning

in the meaningless and frigid world

become the next line of teach-

-ers and workers, follow-

-ers and the hopeless mass

until the Sunday comes

when we hate ourselves too much

too little to get out of bed

and feed the kids or dress

for church, for God, for hope.

(11.07.09) w. by, Charles Case

the women here are not fair

they do not play well with others

and they are known to bite

i’ve been with a few over the years

and the bruises they leave, the aches

and pains and pained memories

it’d be enough to forget them altogether

if only they’d had smaller hips

(11.07.09) w. by, Charles Case