What is Written On The Faces… Consuming

The faces are in the bricks one by one piled into the wall. I can feel them staring and observing and criticizing; the cardboard houses shutter beside the dumpsters as the crows ascend, fleeing. I can feel them watching as I crawl from the alley.

The faces are in the windows a hundred stories high. I know they face down and are watching and peering and leering, corporate courthouses for the American Dream, warehouses of needle-dicked neck-ties stored in climate-controlled lockers. I don’t know what they want.

The faces are leering and bulbous and large, jeering and peering through the back of my skull – What is he? What is he worth? What career is he? Who does he think he is?

To what they criticize and complain I do not know, the looks in the faces I do not know I do not know I do not know.

What is it that you expect!

What is it that you want!

The faces are in the sidewalk hovering all around. I walk faster and try to keep my eyes down, keep looking up, glancing, I cannot keep myself from side-eyed wondering what these faces are for. They hover all around, disembodied and disappointed, condescending in their disgust. Timidity on my shirt-sleeves, fear stitched into the seams of my jeans that do not fit and have not fit since the day I stopped consuming, starving.

The skeleton walks and the faces leer through its ribcage, having eaten.

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3 comments

  1. davekingsbury · October 27

    Very suggestive but to me seems to describe the was that advertising surrounds us – an abuse of the human face because it’s at best an act and at worse a lie. Am I on the right track?

    Liked by 1 person

    • bmickhugh · October 28

      Honestly, what I was trying to get at – and this is admitting failure because I think I missed the mark – was the feeling of being looked down on by those who find success in a system that makes no sense. I was just trying to pin down a feeling – establishing an idea, or a message, kind of took the backseat. But, I’m glad someone was able to read something into it haha. I assume anyone who reads it is going to take it to mean something different… it’s certainly vague enough.

      Like

      • davekingsbury · October 28

        The best poems let the reader in and it becomes a joint enterprise. Reckon that was Bob Dylan’s secret …

        Like

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