eyes closed
it is a rainy day and I am full of sloth, fetal on the sofa with my
eyes closed there is the vroom and splash of cars down the road
the breeze the shelter of my blanket the cilia of its fibers made
alive by my breath
my heart is in an interior room my bowels are in an interior room
I send my eyes out like a boomerang and my ears out like a boomerang
I send my skin out like a messenger to me and collect
messages from the floor of my brain pan
there is the veil of eyelash the veil of venetian blind
the veil of atmosphere of introversion
from the veil of my sloth I perceive the walls of prison
lady k
– – –
drive-by
I am always
almost
there
never quite
there
almost always meeting
you but not quite
following
through
play acting
the end behavior
of a movie scene with
no character development
signpost handling
not putting in time
not really listening
halfway out the door
never in the thick of it
I don’t know your middle name or
where you were born
I forget the name of your ex-husband
some day my account will run dry
some day you will see my game
some day I’ll be recognized
for all my drive-by crime
lady k