Dejection, Rejection, Connection
by Odin Roark

Dejection

Cold diner eggs,
hours old coffee,
her white as snow
starch-clad plumpness
fills cup after cup
for me,
for me.

Rejection

So common to creation
this forced engorgement with food,
with anything for comfort,
signaling neon lit corner bars to awaken,
hear mercy begging,
needing its parched heart caressed with a shot or two,
just enough to chase the combustible fuel
roiling through his veins,
waiting for humanity to prove its impotence again…
and again.

Connection

Outside
through a pastiche of winter night innocence,
a child’s eyes peer back in,
seeing his bar stool coldness of heart-freezing hope.

Her tiny hands trace the snow-frosted windows
portraying her world of innocence,
believing imagination is happiness.

His eye catches her creation…

A first grin of the day forms on his lips,
even as her tales of life melt into a new day...
for both.