Poem: Closed

 

Closed

 

drainpipe-ears pour a runoff of words

down the sides of a shaking head 

until feet just walk off.

folded arms construct an impassable wall. 

the slightest shrug of a bulkwark of shoulder 

shoos an opportunity to sing.

a twitch of cheek taunts flutters of hope.

maybe there is some color underneath, 

some vim or verve?

but no.

stronger than any logic, small as nerve cells, 

bricks of gray architecture

imprison the ability to think.

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2/25/25 ... eds