the same word at times

The Same Word at Times

A slingshot body, strong but borderline gaunt, just bare muscles

reached for the phone in one swift movement, knocking over

a message to the effect that anyone knowing where

a constant state of expecting something any day, any hour

was suddenly crying and in need of something

needed more chairs, and we needed to bring up the bricks

through an underground tunnel that led inside the

psychotic ones, and had mild contempt for the legions of

a round black hole, an opening no bigger than a small well, so

I don’t know why I have that power over

purses slung over shoulders, eyes flicking left and right to

build a fire and be warm. This could not be done.