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 jest or verve? ... ...
...
stronger than logic, small as a nerve cell,
bricks of gray architecture
imprison the ability to think.
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10/3/25 eds
2/25/25 ... eds
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