what utter nonsense
"go placidly amidst the noise and haste"
i'm not sure but i'm the fool that rushes
bangs my head on the open door, my feelings old
stains on the short
shirt, cuff links hanging from my ears
like discipline my mother wore around her
finger, circles of a wedding ring, there's only the
scent of peonies and lilacs now and stories
she told about the hows and whys of stories
becoming the hows and whys of a mother's
life, i drown myself on the edge of nothing
oblivion is not hard to find, it stares
and stares
with its breath breathing into every passion
i must live, over and over
in some fool's nirvana
it waits for me to round the corner of expectation
with sunlight streaming from my pocket and ransomed moonbeams
home in a bell jar,
like Mrs. Rigby
all the lonely people listen to the words
and no one lives in a grave
no one looks at the world from the inside,
weeping.