I wonder at times
what life might be like
if somebody cared about me
if there were someone I could call
whenever I’m crying
without being a burden
if there were someone I could invite
to a birthday
and expect them to show
I have been made
to feel I must beg
for companionship
I wonder at times
what life might be like
if I believed somebody cared about me
minimalist poetry
No Purchase
A claw twitches
A leg finds no purchase
The mass doesn’t quite writhe
They must be cold, piled on a bed of ice
The sign reads: “Caution! The crabs WILL bite”
I wonder how long it’s been since they’ve eaten.
I’d like to feel their shells, pick one up; but they bite.
I imagine, instead, waiting to die, chilled, on a pile of brothers.
Sophistry and Solipsism in the New Millennium 