Featured Writer: Tim Morris Day 3

it's happening


somewhere,
in a sedated florescent glow,
rows and rows of pornography
are being molested
by curious hands...

somewhere,
between guilt-ridden tiles,
a boy fondles himself
in the mirror over a sink...

somewhere,
in the aromatic light of dawn,
a woman fingers the delicate labia
of her entranced lover...

somewhere,
in the drone of tomorrow,
a man on his knees sweats
at an altar, asking for his wife's
quick and painless demise...

somewhere,
in the overwhelming shadow of a cross,
a woman sucks at a bottle of gin
while spinning a razor blade
between her teeth...

all the while
carousel horses dance
to their happy, happy song.