I say twenty things/ I mean one
(I've been caught
eating rocks on the sidewalk
with asteroids forming in my belly.

A watchdog of people patrols
is on the scene and taking interviews
and making notes
and telling tales
about me,
and there's nothing to be done.
So I sit here:

kicked-up feet on the curb
sneakers smashing/ rubbing rubber into pavement
while I lick my lips
and take another drag from my cigarette.)

and I'm waiting for them to break out the cuffs.

02/01/2009

Posted on 02/01/2009
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