outpost
I think I’m doing what’s best
to rewind and wring out
to summarize. Trapped in
criss-crossed headlights, I lost my
scythe while in the hubbub
that doesn’t exist alone, when
I see you becomes I can’t see where I’m going.
I heard secret calls under the thunder
and scurried to my third person outpost
determined to catch my personality
in the act, prove I can be out there unaware and work.
There is not much to recount.
I was in front of you tightening widgets
to lock charm in little turns of face.
Light from my outpost widens to seduce
shadows to cover the shambles. Doubting
its depth,
I feel the now of by myself
and can think it’s only
» back to experimental writing