Tomorrow's Newsreel

It lights up it's already awake
among the appearances of this syrupy stance:
the dry table cup like a wonder still
the crumbs of bread that nobody left for any bird
around the empty dish.
In this drawer there is not a gun that might stop it.
It advances from its abeyance among the sleeping things,
but do not take it amiss
they all have an eye ajar for you
and the day of tomorrow is the only living thing
that crosses like a traveler
momentarily astray
in a jungle of profiles volume and weight:
the final jungle of every afternoon.
If you could catch it
open the solemn vertical of the walls
unroot the boards that sustain your transit through the room
or suddenly draw those waving curtains
you would see that its face, frightened and sarcastic
is the one you know best in the world.

copyright 2006 Luis Benitez
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Barnwood magazine
Contents 06