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Syndic Literary Journal

“1 & 2” ∼ Page 10 ∼ by J.H. Johns & Paul Churchill Mann

Photo by Dariusz Pacak

J. H. Johns
(Copyright © J. H. Johns 2017)

They were struck,
they struggled
and they fell;
floor upon floor,
compacting the hopes
and crushing the dreams
of everyone who ran out of time;
destroyed now,
we watch them
get trucked-off,
load by load;
only to be dumped
and eventually forgotten
as we will forget
and then be forgotten.
Is it junk
because it’s been destroyed,
are we junk
because we feel the void;
can it be rebuilt,
can it become whole,
are we beyond salvage,
can we find our soul?

J. H. Johns
(Copyright © J. H. Johns 2017)

David Rimington,
where are you?
exactly three months
I pulled your card out,
you had two numbers;
one toll-free,
the other a “212” area code;
I figured that the “212” number
would fail to ring
in a place that was
no longer there;
but the “800” number,
for that one I was
hoping to get a human
in an office somewhere
that was still there-
so I dialed,
and waited;
it rang
and was answered-
not by you-
but by a woman
whose voice had
a “taped” accent;
“We’re sorry,
you have reached a number…”
You were not there-
there was no longer a there-
I called the “212” number,
and I was told that,
“We’re sorry,
due to telephone company
facility trouble,
your call cannot be completed
at this time.
will you try your call, later?”
David Rimington,
you’re a tough guy to get a hold of-
David Rimington,
where are you?

J. H. Johns
(Copyright © J. H. Johns)

There’s nothing
left to be brave about-
just smart-
always thinking;
planning can be thinking
but not always;
sometimes there is impulsive,
irrational thinking
that tells you
do this,
don’t do that,
go here,
don’t go there,
stay put-
get out;
we think like
that, now;
time was
when we only
thought with our heads,
our minds;
now we think with our senses;
our eyes reason
and our ears weigh,
we smell the logic
and we feel the ponderable;
our guts
become repositories
of a new world
of knowledge-
a world we knew,
long ago…


Compiled/Published by LeRoy Chatfield
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