Went on home;
Went to bed;
Not a very good stalker
Being properly repressed instead.

Took a quick trip to oblivion,
But no one was really there.
Went up to a little sand box,
But couldn’t find a chair.

Tears and words were racing
To be first to stain the page.
How sanity can dilute
The reasons for limpid outrage.

Seesawing across the landscape,
Elders and betters to see;
Blue Bonnets mixed with Paintbrush
Leading me back to thee.

Passing by no-tell motels
Thinking of my no-show girlfriend;
Perhaps we can try again later—
That’s all for now: the end.

About Kitt

Sometimes a rhyme or couplet wanders across my consciousness. So, I share it. Other times I'm a hospice social worker; others, a Dad; others, southerner, New Orleanian, cajun enthusiast, voter, and on better days, a not-too-awful-poet/rhymster. Welcome to my page. Enjoy.

Posted on April 11, 2014, in Poem. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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