Ghosts

Having seen ghosts of the past

speaking to me without sounds

emphasizing their soundless

messages with gestures and

body language:

Spirits like a thousand

micro-lights

stars for a poet of love.

 

An empty grey bus in

a blue flash of light

delivers me to the

waiting room in white and

pale honey yellow.

Along the wall in marakuja orange

our stripped-off clothing is hung

on name tags alphabetically.

 

The lights diffuse the mind

through eyes not focusable

still as if waiting for Godot

save for the therapist at

this preliminary station

that will select all people

grade them physically and

mentally.

But as much as they try

to stabilize a person

to become Fit for their respective

social categories most fail.

 

It’s never publicly proclaimed

but secretly been worked

onto lists and lists

since few assumed power

over the faceless masses.

Whatever – when eye meets

eye

there’s always secret understanding

human chemistry works at its best.

But how will this work with ghosts?

 

zoltanzelan

ZJG-Poetry’17.

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