huh…oops

twenty-4 years later an’ I’m still sittin’ in a drawer with the odd things that I plan to use or fix some day, gettin’ tangled in my own cord

groceries list

assumpt-tion is the mother

fucker of invention;

go-on…tell me what I’m 

thinking’…what I mean; 

odds are, if my brain 

and mouth aren’t syncin’

it’s groceries or to-do 

redneck city girl

suddenly missing 

the sultry smooth

of a Texas boy’s

intent and the ease

in which I was me

I teeter on the precipice of a forced calm

I thought I had settled in

was settling - in the process of

rooting - envisioning 

implementing the vision 

of the life I would lead

after a life too determined 

a segue in the midst of the trying 

of the boggling 

down in the mire of figuring 

and establishing - hit in a frenzy 

a day late and a syllable short

just because I can

doesn’t mean I want to

I’m too old for it

 

I was promised lemons

has anyone seen my Ikigai?

I sat it just there 

on the windowsill to sun

to catch the breeze

I had my eye on it

until the Murphy spilt

into cracks and crevices seeping

has anyone seen my lemon?

I was promised lemons