I trust there’s a plan
I trust I’m awake at three
A.M.
Wondering if I’m
The only one
Who finds myself
Thinking these things
I trust there’s a plan
That there’s a place
To eventually land
And that I’m not just slugging
My way
Through a crowd of
The ugly and depraved
With their hoods on
And faces drawn
So I can’t recognize them
Every hit that lands
Every flail of my hands
Breaks bone but fails
To breach a brand
Of idea
Every fist I throw
Into a skull
Or nose
Or chest
Is met with nothing
But staggaring
Confusion
As the attacked
Gets up
Brushes off
And rejoins the crowd
Even in violence
I won’t inspire
I trust there’s a plan
I hope that there’s
A beautiful place
My waning hurt
Demands
Once the crowd disperses
Consume Reality! 