This Morning’s Write

When I awake, the first emotion

is

unfulfilled pull the world beyond my eyes.

Seems routine

to intervene upon

a lesser evil

deafening morbidity shoots arrows

deep inside the windows to my soul.

A quiet leap

suggests we find a way,

a new way,

a turning of the screw

the one rammed straight up my

eye socket.

Hah, made you look.

I do wait

while the world continues

rapid or slow

I haven’t the time or energy

needed in order to change the world,

quite certainly,

not even that source of my own

quiet anxiety.

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