Sunday, November 15, 2020

fact #55

Nothing is in order.

There is no arrangement in which to recline.

I step backward,

I step forward,

It doesn't matter.

My shoelace comes loose regardless of direction.

Soon, the slip and stumble. Soon, 

A desperate clutching action,

Hands quickly opening and closing, opening and closing,

Again and again,

Alarms going off in the morning for no good reason at all.

I have nowhere to be.

Hardly anyone does these days.

Nothing is in order.

I haven't made my bed in weeks.

Crying feels ridiculous.


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