Life is like an independent movie
produced by an invisible hand held camera
looking at millions of faces showing signs of existence, living in human moments breathing, dreaming, being under the influence of compassionate emotion to feel, feel, feel!

So how come your sitting in a Chinese restaurant.
You've lost your girl, your job, your house, and
your car.
Everything in you is dead, dead, dead.
Your heart is on your sleeve
your neck is bulging from the stress
wearing out your collar.
Your straining to reach some damn epiphany
from the conflict that is tearing your mind to shreds.

The food is greasy, gaseous
burning the heart out of you
not that you have anything left.

You shouldn't feel ashamed
you're sitting there looking like an arthouse actor
in a Cassevetes movie improvising some damn scene.
The fortune cookie says things will improve.
but it's all bull...

So you eat the cookie and the message
in three bites, belch out a cry for help
and rush out of the restaurant,
buy a soda from a vending machine
but the damn thing won't work,
you try again but it won't work!

You throw the change at a brickwall in disgust
the change ricochets, frightening an attractive woman walking out of a grocery store nearby.

You climb the fence to a retention pond
maybe it's polluted, maybe not.
The water is refreshing - you'll deal with the police later
you dive in there's applause, jaw dropping
and surprise from those watching your meltdown.

You've become a star at the strip mall for the day.
The same woman you frightened ask what's next
you say you don't know.

She takes your hand, hugs you, smiles warmly
and invites you into her life. She says I do,
"you're a human being, so feel, feel, feel."

. Joel L. Young 2002

Author American Lyricon: A Poet Sings of America published by www.synergebooks.com