Tuesday, June 11, 2024

Judges 2: In Writing

Every day the sun rises

every day it sets

every day the waking, dressing

cook, feed

battle of the clothes: too short, too long,

I want sleeves

no sleeves

a jacket

a hat

3 changes, 4

dull pounding behind my eyes

the rhythm of the day,

Hold me, I want you to hold me.

I can't walk!

throwing youself on the sidewalk

legs drumming asphalt.


Sometimes I am patient.

Often I am not.

Breaking point, I grab you,

or walk away, say: I'm gone.

Sometimes I hold you. 

Sometimes croon

It's hard. Sometimes

I feel the pulse

panic at your neck.


Always, in the end

I walk out the door

to your wails.

Say: too much noise.

Say: talk to me! 

While you scream

Listen to me!

I want you to listen!

Mouth a gaping O

of despair.

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