Fantasies of Karma

Under the dim falsified glow
of a lean and towering Eugene street lamp
i see a man, no more plain than painted
he is exquisitely drowned in hatred and bemusement
he stamps forcefully the very sidewalk we walk along

my mind races at the possibilities
of alien foes he attempts to blindly dethrone

midnight,
along the anonymous street of a downtown destination
the meth junkies provide a somber soundtrack of slumber
their life's work drowned out by the cold still of the night

but just as quickly was the mans fury sparked
was his comfortable composure regained
he drew in one stale breath of a life cut short
and arched his back in triumph
the sort of thing a child does against a perceived victory
as i wandered under the sharp circle of amber glow
i sought out this mans blitzkrieg interpretation
his violent tango on the corner
a dance more suited to jack boots than Nike's

but no hordes of fallen villains were of witness
but neither fallen were simple souls of the innocent
instead, quite peacefully ravaged, lie in death five roaches
their short monstrous corpses
smoothed into the tie-dye asphalt

i longed to know his name, and his felt need
to eradicate what wasn't as beautiful as he
i wanted some sort of cosmic retribution to be enacted
under the same strange glow of some Eugene street lamp
but there was nothing to be seen
nothing within our interpretations of worthy life