realizing
luck
drawn
lines in sand
or
on the back of wall
I
created for myself
some
say self-absorbed
only
one ever said it
to
me in a letter
never
saw her again
never
will say it to my face
how
terrible
the
thought
how
terrible
the
words without
thought
some
hidden anger
how
lucky to be the teacher
stomping
out that
original
thought
that
will spring up
in
young minds
remember
seeing this same
one
drinking beers
between
cars
drunk
in the parking lot
college
campus life
how
many years ago
no
one cares
as
if I mention
how
this night gets twisted
more
ways than you know
who
knew
or
does
what
this means
or
doesn't
some
thoughts
stick
in the head
for
years
or
forgotten
in
a minute
or
two
back
inside
day
exhausted outside
forcing
the sun
to
show itself
for
a minute or two
many
thoughts
cramming
the mind
might
go crazy if not
medicated
it's the new
American
Dream
but
this opinion
doesn't
matter
it's
what the collective
thinks
that matters most
don't
have time
find
everything out
second
hand
filtered
by someone else
in
the box tells us
it's
news we listen
are
we interested
or
distracted by
it
all becomes
an
experiment
of
some kind unwound
constantly
changing
directions
like wind
knocking
down
the
dead wood
nothing
concluded...
