Mysterious Little Runts

Barely holding on to a slippery railing,
these stairs go everywhere like
MC Escher with vertigo in a tilt-a-whirl
my life is this empty envelope
I tried to use to send you a love letter,
but you threw it away before ever opening it
and now without a breath or a move left
I skip stones on the smooth surface
of your callous indifference.

The ripples migrate to the shore,
leave me drowning in the middle
with my middle finger the only thing
you can see as I slip out of sight.
Don’t wake me up. I’m sleeping in.
I’m vulnerable and frail and with
only a clothespin for a tail I’m nowhere
near whole, just a donkey in a hole.

Load the gun. Put a book in my head.
We’re homespun mysterious little runts.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s