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.