scale

so do you know

not this time

six o’clock on the nose

running out of space

travel does not interest

too much money spent up

time wasted

all that paper burning a hole in a pocket

shallow as the puddle forming

from the tears he doesn’t cry

laugh while you can

soon we will be gone

across the border        

such a perfect frame

no crime committed

will not disclose detail at this moment

disappearing and become infinity       

too long for him

and the sun shifts deep downward

an inch saw it move over there

not enough room for the two

bump elbows

no one wants to see the mess

he has made it this far

do not give up on him yet

knowing you are in no position

who put you there

right back to the start

slowing down

soon will see him for who he really is

not the man you know

true dreams not revealed to the source

all mistakes occur for reason

cannot see what

the others do

his perception is not the same as another

same as it was when he was an infant

crying for mother father

whatever it takes

to balance the scale of inequality. . .