Tall legs cross
and kneeHIGH socks hurry. rush. rush.
Chronic condition: an eye (The LEFT one)
and its pretty red from rubbing. rubbing. rubbing.
a little crow, i wished were an Eagle
that Car — its tailPipe dragging
about to strike the SCISSORLEGGED bones without a name.
I can see it from my window ———- NOW,
I'm not thinking of the watch
nor do i notice ive cut myself on glass———–BUT,
the olfactory imprint: …that stays:
alcohol, blood, cleaning solvents, brass (i
shrug my shoulders).
My desk is full of my work
the tiny parts.