Thursday, September 14, 2017


Standing in a bathroom
The muted notes of horns
Slips through the plywood

Had I not noticed it anyway

Instead of a mirror
There is a painting of a snake 
A stylized cobra
Dreaming of skateboards
And motorcycle jackets

So instead I stare at this
Pink Himalayan Salt Stone
That could 
In some sense
Provide for a bit of reflection
Just not the kind I need

But mostly
It doesn't really work at all

Nothing here
Is really what was intended
It's not really
What anyone wants

In the corner
There next to the door
I see ants
Swarming over something
That I can't quite make out

When I get closer
I see the corn kernel body
Of a dying beetle
Collapsed in a divot in the concrete floor
Shifting one of its remaining legs
Unable to get out

And I want to do something
But I can't seem to move
So instead with one arm
I find the door

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