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Flattened onto dumb pavement
in concrete-cracked
asphalt-patched
trash-strewn alley.
No one to hear the whispered blame-pain
trickling from the fading soul.
"See, see...what you/they/I finally did to me."
Unreal real drama like a final episode of The Perils of Pauline.
Now flashback to bright-eyed
explosive bundle of self-joy
popping the cork
right out of the genie's bottle.
Memories lurch forward from
the bubbly child of 1, 2, 3...
then stagger backward from
the wrecked adult of 43, 42, 41...
The mathematician wants continuity between the end-points of a life.
A line...a curve...a graph...something...anything.
Perhaps an exotic formula will reveal
the inflection point that launched
the arc of chaos.
The honed mind rejects the banality of randomness
in a futile quest for closure.
Joe Glaser was a successful business technocrat who, upon retirement, morphed into a perpetual student of the liberal arts and sciences. No one was more surprised than he. A perceptive observer of human nature from many angles, Joe has discovered the power of poetry for sharing insights, emotions and humor. He also pursues candid travel photography and enjoys finding natural vignettes that display the human condition in interesting ways. He says it beats the hell out of working. His e-mail address: Joe Glaser