John-Ward Leighton


Yesterday was just so
and we didn’t know
anymore than we do today.
So where did it all go?

The headlines of murder and mayhem
don’t seem to affect us
because it happened
to the invisible them.

Picnics in the park
seem to be an impossible lark
when sitting in a snow bank
cold and in the dark.

The breath I need to live
hangs in steamy clouds in front of my face
and cold stabs in the chest
have taken its place.

Old lovers and all others
fade in my memories game
I can’t remember their names
and their faces will soon be the same.

I talk and I talk
and I talk and I talk
I’m a babbler run amuck
not your ordinary garden variety schmuck.

It’s late and my bed awaits
for dreams of my imaginary dates
and their equally imaginary
sexual fates.

My dreams will have to suffice
it’s the place where I don’t have to be nice
and things don’t have to be just so, but then
where did it all go?

John-Ward Leighton: Where Did It All Go?
All the world is in tune on a spring afternoon as we’re poisoning pigeons in the park

John-Ward Leighton: Where Did It All Go?
Put your shoes on Lucy - don’t you know you’re in the city?
Only the idiots and mad women smile; it seem to me to be the style
Photos ©Copyright 2009 by John-Ward Leighton