February 28, 2008
projection
a broken chair sits in the corner:
outcast, the child who does not play with the others
but watches sitting down.
why does your heart go out
to a piece of furniture, so much wood and glue?
does it have the same regrets you do?
can you read some pent-up frustration
in the paint slowly peeling from its rickety staves?
when you look across the whirling room,
your eyes seek it out and glimmer
with some secret, unshed sympathy.
for me, it is only the shared sense
of unreliability, of being unable to bear weight
any longer: a dusty sigh
and the peace of resignation.
February 15, 2008
little bird
no one can catch me,
my belief, my hope,
my private delight.
my special power over
every other creature:
quick wings that flit
silently behind leaves,
while they all creep
stupidly on languid legs,
peering into the dirt.
i am above indignities,
accountability and reproach
do not reach so high.
but see! they build
fires and bake bread
together. what ruse
is this, that those
who cannot escape
one another should be
so happy? i spy unseen,
uncomprehending and
alone among the foliage.
February 13, 2008
February 09, 2008
quote of the day
My shirt isn't long enough for my torso... maybe it's shrinking in the dryer? Anyway, I came into work today with it nicely tucked in front but hanging out behind. Mary, a co-worker, had this to say:
"Bob, your shirt's all business in the front and a party in the back. You basically look like a mullet."
If you're not laughing, I guess you had to be there.