Sunday, January 23, 2011

Lost (freewrite)

got there expecting things to
go easy,
be smooth.

The diagonals are all off
& I am parking parallel
2 blocks away.

Why am I rewarding myself with a fucking pastry again?
The chocolate helps
to calm neuroses
grown in a state of procrastination & unpreparedness.

3 spasms in a series of failed frantics.

I think the bites are getting rounder
but the morning is tearing away much faster now--
as the excuses muscle in,
their buzzing bodies pollute my mindscape
like a horde of greedy bees.

Skin is shaking in a series of goosebumps & scribbles,
& I can't be late again
I'm only built for so many mistakes.

1 comment:

  1. vivid capture of your sentiments.
    beautiful writing...

    do link to our potluck poetry tonight.