One-Way Conversations
by Odin Roark

For the lonely,
there exists an amateur ventriloquist
with tribal drum accompaniment.

He/she has quite a troupe of mental players,
eliciting exclamations from the psycho savior in his/her head:

Houdini for the occasional, “Oh my God”
Karl Wallenda garnering a “Guy’s crazy”
A Cirque Du Soleil contortionist, “Impossible”

Such a person walks the streets of urban density,
yet he/she goes undetected,
strolls leisurely,
passing flower boutiques,
newsstands,
and friendly cats darting about,
longing to be petted.

Or…

Straddling the dining chair.
head bowed while stirring the peas,
letting the mate of choice with the obsessional need
to talk about the shortage of money,
add to the sense of isolation.

Such a man/woman,
concentrates on the whispering voice in his/her head,
giving warning that the angry pack of dogs circling their target,
teeth bared, crouched low…

may not be in your head.