Stalled out. He comes. Starts
car. Buys breakfast. Drops what he’s
doing. Just for me.
Knight
Reply
Stalled out. He comes. Starts
car. Buys breakfast. Drops what he’s
doing. Just for me.
Like a dorm room on
four wheels, it’s a place to get
drunk stoned laid changed sleep.
Domestic mountains
rimmed with grime, sponge scaling this
Everest of suds.
Ate bad stuff. Gained weight.
Hate myself. Still, I think, There’s
always tomorrow…
I quit my job to
work on my haiku blog. Chance
of millions, slim / none.
Wisdom’s spark. Fortune
cookie poetry message
ignites hope change growth.
Carbs like clouds. When gone
clarity returns. Blue sky
thinking open mind.
One bite then the mad-
ness begins. Binge-stuffing my
face. Swallowing whole.
Olive pits. Glass shards.
Bent straw. He warns, It’s not a
garbage disposal…
Vague tomorrow is
malleable until tempered
by the here and now.