forget what’s
been learned
read enough to
say he knows a bit
what he knows
he puts on shelves
written himself
dizzy with poetry
and random
thoughts
scattered just
as well
who will put
them in their own piles
can he kid
himself much
longer with the
pipe dream
forgetting the
words
rather sit next
to the stained window
waiting for the
sun to set
room filled
with pine scent
mind melt and
attention spans
that could fit
into a row of thimbles
spilling more
ink daily
then all this
thought combined
all the sounds
melt into
one baby
screaming
for no apparent
reason
who knows not
quite as close
to madness
anymore
remembering to
return the favor
someday but
today
watching the
vagrants migrate
to the shoe the
city of champions
still trying to
find one
wanting too
much all at once
looking across
the room
someone
watching still feel safe
nothing to say
to the lonely today
hope they come
to understand
trying to stand
on feet
asleep for thirty
minutes…
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