IN THE MANNER OF A KNAPSACK
I feel crumpled and rudely folded,
left with things hanging out - a form
of despair too amply put forward. I
don't think I'd be alone even if I was
alone. Going out on a limb has never
been more fraught.
-
Cellophane wraps of a Christmas
morning dump have never looked
worse off than I feel now : The car,
ambulance, and kitchen-counter
noises just won't go away.
No comments:
Post a Comment