IT'S LIKE THAT
I've just walked into a blinding storm
in which things are flying everywhere.
Nothing seems safe anymore and this
world is a glamorous fusion of
misconnected things. What a
simple world this is!
Now it's all come down to nothing :
the cop on the corner with the whistle
he never uses, the lady walking sideways
to her car, all the while fumbling for
keys. Everyone engaged in something.
This used to be an old, gray building;
now it's covered in mirror glass that does
absolutely nothing for me : I see the rest
of the sky reflected, and a few blinking
birds who will die from smacking their
heads in flight. Sad, more, sad, again.
I am a lizard like a child with nothing to
do but despise my elders. I want more
of everything, always, but have already
had way too much. Not forlorn, just mad.