MIRROR TALK

one day i will say good morning

to the walls that house all this

simple, the shell of this mess

somehow fashioned into maybe man

but mostly scared thing, a lazy

but interesting idea waiting to

be born or at least discussed

as a bonafide possibility

one day i will say to me, i see you,

and i will respond to me, how when im not

here, i will finally say good morning

to an apathetic afternoon parading

as a perpetual first day of

spring, i will say good morning to

what i’ve become, what the world

has made me, there will be a messenger

pigeon in my ear, it will have made

a nest there with ribbons of my eardrum,

there will be shit on my shoulder,

a pile of it, and i will finally see

it and recognize that them aint my

feathers and them aint my wings,

and say and say and say good morning

and that will be the day night

comes earlier than it ever has

and the next day probably wont