Tomorrow

Across that inescapable void
where prayers find their voice
we will speak again someday.

Somewhere,
in that permeating darkness,
I know you're watching.

You, in your form I never knew,
without the longing stares of silence,
the entangling respirator,
the inconsolable despondence,
the sunken cheeks and fallen eyelids.

You, in all your temporal disregard,
with your unrepentant dependency,
your adoptive arms,
your indiscriminate affections,
your transcendent ascention.

You,
who still haunt me in my dreams,
that I have stopped calling nightmares
out of respect for their subjects.

21 shots
for the forgotten,
and folded flags.

All of which seem meaninglessly drab,
in light of the alms of their idol worship.

For christmas,
I wish I could talk
to those lost along this lobotomized journey,
along with my mind.

I had her eyes, he said-
the kind that seem to be hiding
some inexpressible sorrow
deep inside.

How nice it must be
to never have to worry about tomorrow.

Moving Weight

His conjugal tone made me want to slit his throat, but organized crime concedes no room for passion. You rarely see the workings of the underworld; it is in its best interest to remain apparitional. "The marina on the North Carolina side of the Busterboyd, alone."
I collected all the necessities for such an occasion and drove down the empty road. He was already waiting when I pulled in. I struggled to control the urge to pull my m9 and blow his brains all over his Caprice. We exchanged brief glances and walked to the back of his car. He opened the trunk and watched as I slung my package over my shoulder.
It was too heavy to carry cooly. I stumbled under its mass, slowly reaching into my pocket to pull out my keys. He coasted off as I finally managed to pull the handle to the back left passenger door. I laid the black burden down on the cellophane that covered the backseat.
After I scanned the lot to confirm my solitude, I pulled away the black shroud. I hadn't allowed myself to confront the reality that awaited in the unnaturally blank expression I found on his face. The lack of his hallmark vitality was too much to deny. I broke down. I drew his bloodied face to my chest and cried out louder than God had ever heard. I hope he heard every word.
Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachtani.

Heaven

All my childhood heroes died.

Malcolm X was my best friend in middle school.
I cried when I finished his autobiography.

Why do the good die young?
I have seen proof thereof
many times. Still
I try to rationalize some truth therefrom.

Sometimes the world breeds anomalies
that supersede their times.

Rest in peace my brother.

I hope to see you, in the sky.
Tupac told me there was a heaven for a G.
Is it true?

Is there somewhere where me, you,
Biggie, Proof,
Jesus, Buddha, Muhammad, Confucious,
Ghandi, Martin, and Patrice Lumumba,
can kick it?

If there is a heaven,
I have no doubt there are gangsters in it.

They couldn't desensitize your smile.
I remember it so vividly.
All the while, as darkness thickened,
you kept on grinnin.

Most drug dealers are victims
of circumstance and their past.

I have known death in many forms,
though none seemed as difficult to bear
as those whose passing is still premature.

Ye though we were not naive enough
to think you would make it out alive,
prediction is no prescription.

O Lord,
Save Our Souls.
This isn't how life's supposed to be?
Is it?

True.

This business business
is getting out of control.

Ain't no life worth a figure,
no matter how large,
or minimal.

Give us this day our daily bread,
and forgive us of our trespasses,
as we forgive those who trespass against us.
And lead us not into temptation,

but deliver us from evil.