We live in fog
by Marria Evbuoma
Butt cold
A cloud below (if we had your higher view)
But here in the fog- we are loose
we float along
We wait in shades appreciating all this damp
And when the sun is ready, so are we
Lost inside
But who’s really searching?
Leave your shoes on the corner
and your expired canned food
and your analog television
and that stained mattress
All inside here is of use
To be enthusiastically kicked about until removed
On the edge
Is where we live (if you had our view)
Not just to exist
But to come where this land ends
To message grey: THERE IS NO MORE
A journey out where?
To inside
To no longer be in demand
No comments:
Post a Comment