Before Noon 

by Eric Blasco

Green canals of trees
guard us above,
as the leaves
reflect light from below.
They know
the ground brought us power
to see and grow,
to walk a straight line,
in this city of 200,000
parking tickets,
fines,
noses picked at—
picket lines of worry across the faces
on all kinds
of skinny-legged people
at tight lipped places.

Smirk: frustrated worker,
your tie’s blowing in the wind,
it’s dust and a candle,
thick and thin.
Remember!
it blows free and sins
a strong gust
might—take it off
it falls down when
Heavy sidewalks begin
painted in rust,
where concrete belonged
it was lost again.

A man remembers
a time when he
was gotten;
the bus arrives late,
young couple
on a date?
or job interview?
(They’ve forgotten)
its been a while since he knew
more then business transactions,
since he’s been missing you
he fights with passion
another angry man
longing for class action
to bring something through
a time space where dreamers
can dream something new,
You’ve got to!
block out noises
to see the day through
it’s a sea
of see-throughs
concrete and tree roots
so weathered
its hard to tell difference
between the two.

Can this be love?
or sitting on another lap
Is this worth it?
or cheap plastic crap?

Bridges bound
a bureaucrat
across town
who lived too long
to know a smile
from a frown;
His wife spreads out,
in a pink gown,
sitting down.
waiting for the morning
when intense sunrise
is called Dawn,
red sky in her eyes
sailors take warning.
there’s no time to yawn.

If all moved
at the same time
this city would spin in reverse
like children rocking a school bus
the river flows upstream,
and belongs to us
His lips move
to relax from terse
spill out on the sidewalks
17,000 (uni)verses:

Do you hear the shouts
beyond the roadblocks?
moans from wet pussies
and hard cocks
rattling the rooms
off fell the door locks
Push the wall and scream!
bloom wallpaper flowers
from collected wet dreams
made gardens in the eaves
canals hung above ears
so hard to believe
But, the spirit of the soul
was first felt in the dog’s knee
It ripped up the
foundation—
make-up base
right off her face;
Naked she stood,
saying Grace,
in the moonlight
she towered, so strong
sang a song,
an old battle hymn
as she recovered
from the daze
of pharmaceutical glaze
on the cake.
Liberty rang
like a cell phone
at a quiet lake.
“Hello!” she cried out loud
sharing thoughts with a crowd.
In the same sentence
came hope with disaster
the uncertainty of the peasant
kicking out the master.
She spoke in the present—
tense, faster and faster.
When each word meant a thousand more
what would come after?
When all the words were spoken
together came the Laughter!
Music,
and soon
One note was worth 1,000 words
If you know its uses, and the tune.
the river turned in the sip of a coffee,
just before noon.