Soul Mates: A Poem by Brandon Shimoda

My soul mates
Have yet to be conceived

Underneath the mating
Of surrogate spirits  vacating bodies
By the minute

Directed
To live by, but I
Want to live
By the future

Ordure

I want to eat it     I want to feed it

A pool-like visage

On the crumpling horizon
Synthesized from what was being
Said or done   or done or said

And what I do

Not know

I think about

The trash

That captivates
The critical essence of soul mates

Heaven for a body that never starves

Is always starving   Drain the trash?
Fated to be

Ballast for the mass

The trash must gleam
In the middle of the desert

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From The Desert. Used by permission of The Song Cave. Copyright © 2018 by Brandon Shimoda.