Change and Vision

Got a note than another
telling me and threatening
be at such and such a place
get rich or else it said
bring the black and white notebook
don’t be late.

In a heavy shirt I snagged
at a thrift shop in Boston
under a Harvard sweatshirt
hoodie string pulled snug
I sweat over a local beer and
changed my mind.

The prophecies were complex
jibbered syllables mixed with vague
images rubbed thin into colors
something about opening up
something about becoming
organic.

The wind breaking branches
I crossed over the black river
from the gallery to the club
hiding in my man purse
the notebook full of struggle
and combustion.

On the other side met
just briefly with the suits
I picked up my cash
meeting nobody’s gaze
and left the future in the hands
of minions.

That was years ago and now
I’m sure they locked it up
in some wall safe as if
those visions were meaningful
to anyone else but
a visionary.

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About mrsorenson

all over the place
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