these days

everything has meaning

near in nearly

hard in hardly

bare in barely

the planes i almost missed

but didn't

the tests i should have failed

but didn't

the motorcycle

that got me to my train

in the nick of time

maybe it's a sign

in this relentless night

that the light that flickers

fails to fade

that yesterday's pigeon poop

missed me by a minute

and an inch

that the weather forecast predicted storms

but it only stormed in Jersey

close calls chime in sync

and tease my eardrums to believe

that the world might howl

even sans a big bad wolf

and ghosts are not the same

as people who are pale and ill

and coffins are just shoe boxes

graves are only stones

they are the only objects on this earth

that mean nothing

nothing

for these days

everything means something

and my eyes solely see analogies

and i only think in similes

my world is twisted out of imagery

and i am made of metaphors

you'd surmise that i'm a writer

but i am just a dreamer

built of words

and punctuation marks

or lack thereof

i see only what i want

images are chosen carefully

meticulous

ridiculous

there is symbolism in this bottle of diet coke

fizzing

nearly spilling

but just

filling me

filling me

filling me

with all the pseudo energy

i need to make it through this night

liquid utopia

bubbly

bubbly

i drink a flawless fantasy

and begin to breathe again

there is life bursting from this plastic

ejected from an automat

that gave me an extra bag of chips

for free

father seems to be dying

but this vending machine says otherwise

just a dollar-something for a coke and chips?

my luck is changing

changing

and maybe he's not dying

after all