marching out of that dull point
between apathy and disdain
where i decided to rest for a while

there's nothing else to explain it
suddenly i'm literally peeling
the loose papers from my skin
letting the cinders crumble meaninglessly
from my clothes

i'm flying out

hole in window, window roof

roof
(here is no reason
i just did it
i made an unseeming effort
something snapped
just as the building did
it spilled its guts
entrails lying out in piles
piles of vomited timbers,
sweaty ventilation ducts
broken column/bones
dangerous yet totally
completely inert
i feel/felt this way)

return
return to your youth

02/02/2008

Posted on 02/02/2008
Copyright © 2025 Corey Lockaby