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Poems

Blue Time

Do you know the noise of the early morning? All the nothing

the screensaver rescuing the mind from sleep but still wandering.

All the wires tangled on the floor. Not many, but still disorienting.

It must be room temperature outside. Inside your head it’s all hot and sticky.

I don’t know how you feel tonight, or any night. Everything seems frozen.

The atmosphere is not a result of the humidity; it’s only something wrong with your receptors.

Earlier in the evening I was looking at clouds. I was not being facetious when I told you of the peculiar shapes they made.

I don’t want you to be in that place without me; I feel like you’re not telling me what you’re really thinking about sometimes.

I feel like a child.

I’ve had enough of this so that’s why I have to leave here and be with you.

I feel like we see each other and ourselves in varied ways at different points in time although we always remain connected.

I can live with you being whichever way you are

I know you know the noise of the early morning. The blue time, it permeates through the both of us, not just you.

The nothing is everything. We may sometimes get tired of our identical screen-savers,

but we keep them because we’re so used to them. We need them for sleep.

They have become routine parts of our lives.

Is it the sound of bells that you enjoy? Get back to me on that as well because I’m not quite sure.

I think you do. Whenever we walk around the city I notice the comfort sneaking inside. One day we will have peace.

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Categories
Poems

Trying to Sell Books on the Stoop

teachers coming from halfway houses

reminders of apologies

never taken seriously

exceeding influence

that is non-existent

worries of being

how should it be known

why anything is extant

fish do nothing

useless inquiries

“I want to buy a cement block and sit on it for the rest of my life.”

buzzing drone

symbolism prone

misinterpretation

everything automatic

deserved castration

pacing the same

streets searching

for bottoms ejected

life inducing pain

barely pleasure

it could be better

if only