Nov 14, 2013


The intricate part of my habitual life
making space for a smooth fight
hats topple over mind, in a canny wardrobe
legs bustle to the line, getting knocked around

I pick myself up, dusting off the sun
darkness feels right, it is idle this evening
unlike pinched nerves, the edge of my window
veering outside, becomes a powerless soothe

I am cool for the finish, mediocre in the middle
finding myself in dysfunctional rut, a true favor
in this touchy area, facing a sheer brick wall
I'm not alone, but, wrapped around the world

like the overlay of silk and flannel
a point of blame bedazzled, written in the sand
banging pots and pans in a crammed restaurant
the noise is working, the shakes are my comfort

jhp ©2012-2013

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