I’m sick of it all.

I’m growing faded, weary and thin
Like a child’s abused linen — overwashed, tugged in each and every direction.

I can’t take too much more

Each time I observe my taxes I fall short

Sometimes just a penny, lately it’s been more

The globe in the windowsill melted in my sleep

Indonesia and Alaska are sisters now, embraced at merely a finger’s leap

Perhaps really the world is so small

At least that’s as it seems
It’s as though every border leads to black,

I’ve misplaced my palette, brushes and all

I’m mixing water with requiems.

Transparency herself evades me

I’m filled up and weighed down

The clouds rain relentlessly, even when the Earth’s overflown

Saturated with sorrows, busting at the seams

It’s not long before she tips right over, spilling the contents

History — Literature — Love,

Right down into the Universe

Flushing into galaxies

Maybe we’re best off that way

Your painting’s crooked upon the wall

At 6:03, I’ll watch it finally give up

Just like you did, on that day in fall.

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