I Cannot Seem To See
I cannot seem to see through all this
odd rhetoric of sullen divorce
held still by a new universal force
all I can do is stare at this mess.
The crisp mountain air will not settle me,
to hide in a book under each letter,
to sleep, curl in deep dark, to make better
a bitter infusion, emotions tea.
Within a second pulled out from myself
a slight recognition from the real
a sigh from the downward glance of my son
and I knew our time was our current wealth
in front of your love I was forced to kneel
a kiss on your forehead sent to the sun.
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Poetry Month Poem #7
Poetry Month Poem #19
"The name is Bill Burroughs. I am a writer. Let me tell you a few things about my job, what an assignment is like." William S. Burrough from The Adding Machine.