At times
I get impatient
waiting for karma
to do its thing
I think we all do.
I can’t see it, feel it or smell it
but there’s enough hanging in the air
for me to imagine
that she must be a woman.
maybe like the kind
I used to date.
One with considerable wealth and taste
skin so soft
that her sweat is priceless
containing just the right amount of bitchiness
with each bead.
She likes her drink
swirled, chilled
and a face mask at a room temperature of 54.8 degrees.
slippers ready
after bath
before starting work.
I don’t know
enough of the insider info
to tell me she’s acting
but others tell me so.
I can see the leaves change in autumn
I can feel the air pick up a new chill
and run with it
when bad things happen
to bad people.
A CEO slipping on a banana peel
getting hit by the #2 bus,
a visible lash on a lover’s face
used to jail an ex,
or a politician’s campaign
derailed
after the stains didn’t quite come out
in the wash.
That’s her
leveling up
carrying out wishes.
A new-school thought on an old idea
a paradigm switch
in ways
from pity and last
romance
to failed intimacy,
her acts can be
less violent but
just as damaging.
And sometimes, I wonder
if there’s anybody
out there
wishing bad karma
on me
but then I remember
I’m just an average,
tired man
living in the sea of the big city.
nobody knows my name or who I am
and for that I’m grateful.