Archive for the Odd Category
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It is of the sometimes
Of the good times
A friend makes comment
The things I forget
About here and now
And the spaces in between
How I waited and somehow
You found your way to me
A comment
Of how happy you make me
And how perfect it seems
Not sometimes
but always, baby.
0
There is this shadow belonging, purpose unawares
the ants marching uphill and the drummerboy with a plan
only it doesn’t work so well
when the weatherman with a feathered crest
calling upon the heavens
Watered down and dissolves
like a teaspoon of sugar under the tongue
and a fat women with her breadroll ankles
Baking in the swelter of the all omnipresent
Sun dipping behind
There it goes again
Away.