Time to hit the books
Pablo Gomez


Time to hit the books

Liquid shadows stain ruled paper

He knows you’re staring,

Laser beams weakening the armor plating of his eyes.

He can never sleep. Never unsee.

Eyes evaporating like the dried cranberries from Trader Joe’s that he could never afford.

Black uniforms mistake him for a thug when he and his underground hallucinations could make the same mistake.

They found him losing blood,

Iron columns rusting away,

Unable to support this crooked cop’s quota.

He’d been living lucid dreaming since he was conceiving but

The system convinced him he needed to hit the books.

“Stamp your finger here,

you’ll go far.”


←     →