Fred Aiken Writing

Tag: Poetry

July 21, 2023

SELL, THEN SELL, AND SELL

sell me crypto,
sell me my soul,

sell me time back from 
when we spent that week in a timeshare,

a fleeting grasp on moments’ fiery blaze,
the ether’s pulse, a symphony of stars,

sell me time back from the coded night,
sell me the constellations poking through the sky,

spell out each memory,
nonfungible, tokens placed on the table,
and gambled away for a brief moment

spent looking up, down, left, right, left, left, and back

July 19, 2023

HOLE IN POCKETS

chained to the idea of freedom,
even when it doesn’t make any sense,
even while spending thousands of dollars at amazon
and google and apple and barnes and noble and kroger and publix
and aldi’s and walmart and verizon and at&t and comcast and 3m,
to name a few,
and i certainly hope they love me as much as i love them
with my dinero that got lost when i didn’t realize
there was a hole in my pocket

July 18, 2023

CROSS THE STREET, THEY SAID

a soundtrack of whistling folk singers
scream into a microphone painted red while
wearing papier-mache mustaches sprinkled with glittery gold
as the city sits with hands folded back,
shoulders stiffened by the weight of melodic notes
trampling down streets not-yet-paved,
but i still think it might be safe to cross the street