Black Wheat, 4
by Jerry Ratch
They like drugs
They are concerned with the self (alone)
and they say they are
in the world
. . .
Maybe they don't have this blood
that calls out to them
or they do not hear it
Ride in their convertibles
unconcerned
Nothing is
called up out of that blood
There is no sex
. . .
Maybe there is no sex
in the world
No great need
No surface either
or reality
Nothing subjective ever
in the objective world
Really enjoying these.
Will you reveal who "they' are? Or is that part of the mystery.
Doesn't matter. I'll still read 'em.
I like the mystery of it and really like these lines,
"Maybe they don't have this blood
that calls out to them"
Thank you, Gary and Sally!