Tuesday, June 25, 2002

bricked and brokken

the road, bricked in and broken. stuck in the roundabout with the clout. glimpses of shoulder straps and tanned legs in the corner kitchen mirror. dragged through the detour detector without a care or a cane. these are the days that he didn't dream of. wearing it on his shirt, badges and badgers and messes and dresses and packets of dried flowers and tossed salads and see through tape and tight squeezes. the silent sorrow of the morning gathering. capped solutions and better breathing. tension torsos gone unmanaged. battles from without and within. rising temperatures and declining sales. breast pocket lunches and broken forked tongues. bring the ladle this way with the ways and the means. insatiable appetite for nearness and now. i can't balance the bricks without a scale.