L. B. Mek

That flipped coin of momentary, bleak


Some, get to live their lives

as best they can

While others just try to survive 

their elongated, death


or, it melodramatically seems

on a cold November evening

with Xmas adds


and huddled figures

smiling about commodities

in their shopping bags, and swiping 

at their itinerary notification, burdens.


While you’re watching your bus

just fly past, matchstick packed

full of ghostly – inflamed, faces

and your foggy sigh, is drowned out


by a chorus 

of cursing, cackling teeth 

all around you.


Knowing, your promise of salvation

awaits in that leftover, takeaway 

you hope will taste better, day after…



© L. B. Mek

November 2021