Rain clouds swelled the horizon
Filling spacious skies and idle minds
With the emptiness of yester-year’s aspirations
Did I absentmindedly forget to tell her something?
That didn’t come out right, scratch that.
Willy Billy sat pelted by the enterprise
Of a thousand calculations in class
No equation, nothing working
His thoughts obfuscated, by unrelated her
Bones and cans, ploughshares and caves
Moods and daydreams, flowers and mud
Runaway with courage, face head-on while hiding
Disease, fun, branches, intellectualization, stains and buoys
The shores of time erased
My footprints in the sand
Will no one remember me?
Where am I going, who am I?
If not for the delicate leaf
That fell at my feet
From a slight breeze in the wind
My deepest breath of hope
Would have been lost
Tiny, teeny, bug crawling
Your strange eye, eyes
Antennae and miniature black spikes
Shell body and mind with motives
Are we thinking alike?
Soft wave of her light brown hair
Hazel gaze where her skin shies
And her desire burns, secretly
Our love is like a document
Sent by a company to divulge important information
We have formatted text together
And the paper is loud when printed and shaken vigorously
When our words are finished
Someone can click the save button
And we can be stored together
In a file folder, forever
My poetry isn’t coming out right today.
Maybe there’s something Freudian going on here.