Poetry – mack rogers writes

the view from her place

you arrive early and alone,
sole bearer of bad news
and no one cares

Follow, she said
and you did, of course.
Wait, she said,
you can’t rush this.

look
it’s getting late

we never received it so
I sent it back

imposter
run like you always do

step out the door
halfway around the world

they paint the ground in red
it’s in their teeth
dripping down your arms and legs Continue reading “scar tissue”

Stolen texts and old graphics,
lost in a derelict archive
collecting lives and dust. Continue reading “lost and found”

empathy

it evens you out

soaking up the

The website said experimental.
Electronic, pop, psychedelic.

The venue, however? Rows of seats,
still too crowded for your average asthmatic. Continue reading “When We Were Done Dying”

What are we doing here
fighting over things we don’t want,
things we don’t care about? Continue reading “Enough is Never Enough”