6* of 30: 30/30 Challenge 2016

Terrified and Thankful

Out of film
The counter’s off by two clicks
And I see the shriveled earthworm
It and I so similar in our sausage casings
And the grass bleeds to the air

The children are laughing
The neighbor is mocking
A cigarette death-stare
A contest of resolutions
In house-dresses and judgement
Unemployed shorts and growing differences

A tree in white bloom against shades and green
Backdrops and highways
Trains and bridge trolls
Their whispers carrying
A hundred and fifty yards of absence

Scalded by the light
Frozen by the wind
Cold snapping up last bites
Of my ears and lips

Dogs barking their miniature poodle drive-by insults
Expelorants and accelerants
Nicotine jumpy
Near collision
“So sorry, I didn’t see you there”
They rarely do
When running me off the road

Black and white fly-bys
Bureaucrat bug-eyes
Eyeballing me
Someone always watching
My suspicious haircut
When is it safe to leave
Did I forget my papers and my ID
Where are my keys

Better leave the sunglasses on
To hide my age and my fear
Behind raised eyebrows
And candid smiles

The school bus
Cropdusting with diesel
As it shoots by
I finger the chord of my headphones

The impulse to block out
While tempting
Is a deadening
To the unfolding

If I focus too hard on evaporating
How will I notice
I am arriving
In each step


*I realize this is a little late. I had written this early in the morning. Crashed for a couple hours. Had a work-a-thon and then out the door to Poetry in the Port (which was crazy tonight, seriously. Some news on that later). I got home and spent some time with the fiancé whilst working on today’s poem, he went to bed and I have been waiting on my twat of a computer to come up. It has this thing about being turned off and on three times before it will wake. And my anti-virus decided to auto-update which turns this sucker into molasses until it’s done. I would have been on time but a long, convoluted series of events has me here. Unforeseen circumstances led to a late post, ah well. Going to get caught up on all the things I wanted to read and haven’t and then responsibilities, and sleep (finger crossed on that one, enjoying it less and less).

 

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About Moly

Average, boring, self-involved human. Twitter: @CultOfCocktails Facebook: facebook.com/MolyTov
This entry was posted in Poetry, Written, Written Work and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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