in my comfortable chair
I sip a hand-crafted ale
and wonder
how the poor are getting along.
I take in tonight's entertainment:
the red neon rush
of fire engines
off to parts unknown.
to me it's just a movie.
for me
the window
is a barbed wire fence
beyond which happy marionettes
dance in perfect circles.
In this prison
I dream
of being nowhere else.
In this sactuary
I drink the rain
that washes away
your song.
Paul David Mena
9 October, 1996
Boston, MA
