it hears its own humi no longer know of it’s desires
A poem —
One more dayRained offWorks delayedI can sense the lunatics, chomping at the bitAnd me, chewing…
A rattlingwakes me,startles mefrom adead sleep.
An Undulating Tribute to Claire Kelly’s Poem, “Westward Winds”
Dire little youth, spilled broken truth,
I missed you yesterday,
On the way down to the 404 subway,
I was smiling, for things were realigning,