sitting is me
calves never rested
feeling bested
by a fly loping low to the ground
glazing over dusty wafts of stale air
and i am the dust
once again
beginning
middle
end
dusty
like an old diary,
or a mirror never used
a poster of a movie no one will remember
the sequel to a flop
monologue
voice over
feelings strangled
things to say
to make it through the day
feeling slightly more normal
in shorts taken over
by a body grown big
and wisdom to fill it
No comments:
Post a Comment