A crack that reaches across the infinite distance of synapses setting up…
A Poem
A logjam on the tongue/ the frontalcortexfinding the words\ too difficultto spill in anymeaningful…
If movement appalled me beforeI didn’t know itStalking the industryrepresented by this hollow square on your wallTurned…
You tell me to put myselfat a remove& I don’t know how& somehow I can’t obey to get my body out of the room
Taking a picture of thiswax-scented scratchalong my wristdenies the meaning it mighthave had once
I thought I could smilewhile I fed the day mydistraction & discoveries.
This sunset’s been goingon a long, long time.