Some Days
Some days I get very tired and
need cocoon of car wrapped
tight around my
amorphous form.
Mind and body one
unfortunate Caucasian Jell-O
with forces of form
entirely external.
Some days I get very tired
of knowing what I know and
knowing what I know
I will know forever and
wishing I could forget
some of what I know and
knowing if I forget
I will not know I forgot and
Some days I get very tired
of that.
Some days I get very tired
of thinking of old friends who
will not think back of me. So
I mimic their form or
impersonate their voice to
rearrange past tragedy.
Some days I get very tired
of thinking of old friends who
can no longer think back of me. So
I dream of brushing back the dirt
from their faces or trying to
'Elmer' together a million
lost ashes and somehow
getting their clocks to
tick toward the future again
even for a day even
if it's one of mine.
Some days I get very tired
of trying to
scratch out a poem from the
enormous boredom of
everyday life and read in the
paper instead of
90mph-man who chooses
bridge abutment as
ombudsman.
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