something important came and went without so much of a
coffee
wisp or the
scratch-click of a distant bike's
gear shift
i missed the message; my
punishment is delayed
vision, a tissue-
film
drag a minute’s wake over
my eyes.
old see, i see things
rotten
over ripe
bruised or wrinkled bowing.
the world lay before me a
burrowed fuzz and all i did
was
come up short, just this
once.
No comments:
Post a Comment