Poetry, Art
Status Update
A poem without function
I don’t know how
To be anything
Other than alive
None of the other verbs
Fit anymore
In other verbs
I am
But I can’t
___
By Doodleslice 2024–07–15
Hey there. It’s just me sitting here in the junk drawer, rummaging around looking for something useful.
It has been a gloomy drawer lately.
I’m not sure why. Normally, if there’s ever such a time as “normally”, I would chalk it up to my depression issues cycling around again. That’s an old chum I’ve played hopscotch with all too often — I have plenty of chalk here in the junk drawer, btw. Sidewalk chalk, chalkboard chalk, fancy-schmancy French pastel chalks, it’s a dusty paradise. But this ish doesn’t feel chalkish. Not in any way I recognize anyway.
Can you forgive me for these sideways sentences I scribble? I sometimes wonder if they are a bug or a feature. Yet, I hop about in my peripatetic way, jiggling the words until they tilt or fall into place.
Out of place in my sulky junk-funk, licking wounds from fights I’m not even aware I’m…
