walking blind

A curly cadence;
A flirty fragrance;
A cheap conveyance;
A wrinkled radiance;

A clear concession;
A half confession;
An odd obsession:
Unanswered questions.

Haughty hangups;
Harmonious hookups;
Impenetrable close-ups:
Fastidious fuck-ups.

In front porch light, I’m beaming.
Telepathic night, I’m screaming.
X-ray sight, I’m gleaming.
The morning grass is steaming.

The work we leave: unchanged.
The luck I draw: unhinged.
The itch I rake: relieved.
The touch, itself, perceived.

These patterns might repeat.
Cars roll backward down the street.
This creaking orbit knits one groove.
One fall after another,
Just another way to move.


11/8/21