And How

Posted: November 18, 1994 in Poetry
Tags: ,

And how
does the world bludgeon me daily.
Sanctuary with my door locked
and my heater blaring.
The smell of burnt dust clings
to my jackets on the coat rack.
I hear my exteriority shatter
with the tumble of the deadbolt.
Ignoring the intrusion of phone bill, electric bill,
auto insurance bill, CD club bill —
Williams I’d rather not be acquainted with.
The ceiling fan is strobing for my tired eyes
Into a mechanical African daisy.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s