Walking through life in a slight haze
waiting for the rusted anvil to drop
and expecting that stop sign to bend
is a feeling of unfettered malaise

Hand splayed over the side of the couch
Lukewarm Earl Grey just out of reach
The book I love has fallen to the ground
and my body caves into the pillows

Look in the trash can
over at the edge of
the parking lot and you
will find the remnants
of me making copies

The clouds move
The trees sway
Aaron picks up dog shit
and the world tumbles by
through the window

Sunlit pieces of glass
and yesterday’s candy
bellow into the wild

A rhythmic display of time and space
intertwined with butterfly wings
looking like a parachuter's eyes
through the fear in their goggles