Friday, March 4, 2016

Just a Thought

I was about to say something here,
then thought better of passing out
on my own recognizance—a ghastly scene
too inert to interpret, a forgetful growth
on the nation. And yet,

adding insult to daiquiri, the polka dot stubbornly
refused to go out of fashion, and mere inches kept me
awake on the fringe of an idea
whose time had petered out, petulant as a daisy.

Happiness like that can be hard to read by—
you know how it hunts and gathers,
spalls and spatters—but worth every penny
you failed to pick up in your life.

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