Monday, May 8, 2017

well aren't we a trifle

lil buddy with the nuts
grabs whatever 
is around

and i am found
on the lip 
of the curb

where i
disturb no one
with my smelly

mistakes
free from
the straitjacket

of here to there
and i don’t
really care

how it sounds
or if my laugh
has gotten

too big
for its britches
i keep building

bridges and 
holding out
for a smidgen

of certainty
the gestalt
melting

into droplets
all
awash

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