FIGURE IT OUT

You ask a lot of questions for someone who never looked for answers

look at you, all bad handwriting and dust that doesn't wash off.

there's grooves in your head from pushing it against the bars.

I'm tired of scratching down the days.

in four-plus-one sonnets that all say the same things.

i'm too old, listen.

to be cutting up my words

and talking to myself, i'm too old to be asking for ball.

 i am not you.

most days i'm walking cadavar but what do you know of gravegrass and weeds

you with your fucking garden mouthful of everything i never had.

spit that shit out, use your damm words

there's truth and then there's truth

yours and mine, in and out. get me out.

pace pace pace pace pace pace

one foot in front of the other is no way to live i know that

and all this stopped feeling

like me some time ago. who are you?

so i am

first and last and only

cold feet. I'll leave no prints in the dirt.