the find — part V

i looked more closely at the backpack
it was standard size
grey, faux leather trim
with an extra pocket secured with a zipper

and i paused
for a filthy, tailor-made cigarette
sucked in those horrific
juicy vapours
as i wondered
what was in this secreted backpack pocket?

and i felt the gravity
gravity, gravity
g = 9.8m/s^2
(on this planet, for now..)
brakes slamming on a childhood car
body pulled towards the windshield
ac/de/celerration as gravity analogue
meteorites burning cloudlines to blue noctilucent
sluicing inward, downward
feeding the hungry atoms of mass
clustered into a planet
an invisible eternal waterfall
raining from the sky

i shook my head
who knows what gravity is?

i unzipped the side pocket
of the mystery backpack
and my eyes widened
at what i saw there

a pencil, like mine
who uses pencils anymore?

a surgical scalpel
blade jiggly
half unscrewed from its mount
glinting dimly off the cloudy sunlight

a 2$ coin of the realm

a curious wood carving
hole drilled through the centre
and 10x holes drilled laterally
but not clear through to the middle
it reminded me of a “tinkertoy” from my youth
but more rugged
and 10x instead of 8x holes
the palm of my hand felt stranger
the longer i held it

there was more besides
but i am going to end this story now

after attempting to locate this particular individual
from the wallet ID in the side pocket
i surrendered the backpack and its contents
to the local police
and i hoped
this lovely derelict and his effects
would soon be re-united

and i also contemplated hope
and the uselessness thereof
and i smiled anyways

the find — part IV

pulsing modern technos
writhed within our minds
but there were no minds
this is why they are named minds

what’s in the backpack?!
tell us please!!

the top was already open
exposed to the elements

on top was a pair of hiking boots
bottoms scuffed a rusty orange
the filthy smudge of a railroad wanderer
sand clinging to the soles
the boots were wet, damp with water
was it recent?
but it had been raining for days
still, maybe.. one.. two days’ old?

under the mysterious boots
was a black t-shirt
clumped into a loose ball of fabrics
i pulled the shirt out of the backpack
and observed it was caked
with damp muds and sands
with a quick
i shook the shirt out
to cleanse its earthy contaminants

and the chipmunk
startled at the sudden motion and sound
vanished from view
a slight waver in the aires stilled over that rock
where the chipmunk had been just moments before

i grinned
i chuckled
i noticed the t-shirt was inside-out

the contents of the shirt were racy
sexual in nature
i’m going to spare you the details

and at the bottom of the backpack
was a collection of cans:
coconut water, orange juice, a single beer,
and an empty coffee cup
and i was puzzled because
this was not the abandoned backpack of an alcoholic

the find – part III

i looked about
but there was no one
no hobo
asleep upon the beach
no hiker
along that desolate path
no body
floating face down in the lake
no campsite
of some homeless saint
just the backpack
that wasn’t there last week
and i trembled
along with my chipmunk friend
at something new under the sun

praise be

to the mountain
trees carpeting her fertile slopes

to the trees
green finery’d by abundant springtime rains

to the insects
within mossy branches interlope

to that nameless, absent one
when wilt thou awaken from thy slumber?

bliss fragment

and i went down
down, down
down to the sodden lowland waters
to converse with the nixie sprites

and the hanging diamond
spun shivering in the sky
everyone feels lovely
and they don’t know why