atlas, you man
of a monster:
why have you
laid my mother
out on her back,
across the earth?

i swear to you,
fail to keep her
heartbeat trembling
and i will shake the
universe from your
shoulders.

no more smoking
breaks in the
lavatory.

you're made
of stone anyways.





**(c) jude rigor 2014

he rolls in
mint leaves
and cigarette
smoke,

standing up
to waltz out
the back
door

and out to
the moonlit
streets of
our urban
nightmare

before i have
a chance to
whisper, i miss
you -
          don't leave.





**(c) 2014 jude rigor