roll with it

from now on i bowl alone
it’s like science and shit, every time
another religious john
oil eyelid

i didn’t realize i was holding anarchist material
i didn’t realize she was so young

there’s nowhere to go but up once you realize up doesn’t lead anywhere
here are the keys
my brain’s doing some interesting things
i can’t see what’s so different from the other animals
it’s so belittling
am i the only one who doesn’t get tired of being blonde, 5 foot-something
or berry flavored
concealing a cold pepsi under my shirt

i’m an old man
11 years old again
probably nobody
putting my hips in my hands
behind the scenes in the exclusive clubhouse
with handshakes in secrecy
pridefully assuming the door knock and nickname

taking back all the hours spent in the waiting/living room chair
positioned to pay all undivided attentions to the glowing/talking square

the life of a rock
stagnant and chipping off into smaller pebbles of it’s formerly larger self
as struck by the busy week world
sanded smooth into an office building
someone else’s none of their business

until i can be 17 again or 22 at 10
with the same set of unmade decisions thus far

Journal Comments

  • Donna19
  • betweenourself