“Under Spotlights”

Sometimes what you hear is the curse,
When you know that below everything
Is a rudiment,
Is the way things work,
The way things stand, which doesn’t change
Through the eons bordering the sun
You might stand up and project this way,
But someone else might, too
And so you meet eye saws,
Fornicating, dealing with death in
The middle of the day, a sunny day, in
The middle of your town,
So you saw what there is to see, now
You know
It’s easy to say things,
It’s hard to go your own way,
Amidst shavings of your eyelashes’ debris
That stutters as it tries to speak under spotlights

Leave a Reply