Empty

a poem

Unicornio, by Peruartevalor, CC BY-SA 4.0 via Wikimedia Commons

I saw a man empty today,
Likely empty yesterday, 

Empty like a pristine vase,
Gold glaze and varnish red,
so superior in appearance
we must assume the bone
chips someone of vast importance. 

He was empty like a missile silo,
after the sliced ribbons shivered 
to the concrete floor;

Empty like the moon, 
So empty we connect craters
to make faces and pretend 
to see something of character in 
the brilliant blankness;

Empty like a silver pipe mounted 
on a walnut plaque, presented
as a commemorative token
of how once it was sterling 
and how to be again,

Perfectly empty, this man.

I saw him but he was blind to me,
although like him I am empty,
Or because of this

Because I am empty like an old tube of toothpaste, 
Curled up on the edge of a porcelain sink;

Empty like an abandoned saloon 
the last hour before dawn, 
shelves filled with dust rings 
and empty bottles on the walls.

Empty like Mars, icy and burnt, 
stripped down to nothing 
but the red silt surface;

Empty like a participation trophy
a wide ribbon to say,
“Thanks for showing up 
and thanks for going away,
Empty.”

I saw him but he was blind to me,
Although like him, I am empty,
But I know paradise is 
emptiness eventually;

And because of this
I can pity his hollow role, 
So much and so little 
Like my own empty soul.

©E.R.D.

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