there isn't a single solitary
interesting thought or witty allusion or clever image
wandering through the dusty ghost town of my mind.
today is one of those days.
mind filled with indescribable, unformed red anger at the morning alarm.
and gray gray grays during the afternoon doldrums
and a nondescript, depressing sort of taupe by the end
all the coffee in the world and all the
binge-eaten carbs in the state of Nebraska
don't seem to be improving anything at all.
this poem doesn't seem to want to end.
or have a point.
today. is one of. those. day.s.
No comments:
Post a Comment