Nursing piranhas

Cancer has been excised

and I’m empty

with nothing to talk about

in my electric chair

and at my desk that coughs

with hope

in a place it never should’ve lasted

like a daisy in Time Square

that was fed the suns of business

though it is darkness now

where I still sit

unmoving

the way I should be

if I weren’t so lucky

to seed life

without wanting to live

*

My fingers

have nursed piranhas

now

I have no more

poems in me

which may just be

the saddest poem

of all

*

I saw her on the street

and she didn’t see me

and then

I couldn’t see her either

for the city was choking on smog

with buildings collapsing eventually

and people collapsing before that