Jack Galmitz


[Untitled Poem]

Are you plugged into
the terrible sky where nothing 
much happens on any given day
like today. Still, I hurry up.
There are things to do.
Envelopes to be mailed.
Prescriptions to be filled.
Strays to be fed.
Visits to the destitute
with sandwiches I made myself.
It's so like the moon
on a night when it's invisible.
I'm a fountain flowing over.
My heart flutters like a partly 
loosened sign on the side
of a bus going downtown.
And a red traffic light suddenly shines.
How do you think the driver feels?
Downcast? Furious? Abandoned as he is, 
as we are, by a system that fails us.
What can he do? He can't just jump
into the gaseous, star-flared, asteroid 
crashing above. Besides, at the end
of the route is Taco Bell waiting.

Jack Galmitz spends his time writing and painting. Recently some of his poems have been published in the journals Alien Buddha Press, Former People, and Synchronized Chaos. He turned 70 years old in the spring and for him this was a great accomplishment. He never thought he'd make it to 60.

 
 

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