draw the line

I will lie when I am drawing the line
even when I am alone

it doesn't matter

I lie and brush it away and let it fall
and if I am not alone I pick it back up
taking quick glances around me
as I brush it off and return it to its place

not if I am alone tho
if I am alone
I savor watching it down there
beside my feet flat to the floor
face down looking away from me
standing above it in the dark

it doesn't matter
but it's what I choose to do
by myself alone unencumbered
owing nothing of any sort to nobody
watching as a giant from above
at the small discarded things below
while I sit and draw the next line
where maybe I will lie

Fell Asleep

I was outside
it wasn't raining

I am inside now
and it's raining

I closed the window
turned up the heater
but it got too warm
so I turned off the heater,
opened the window
pulled on a hat,

tried to type--
nothing going--

got very cold
closed the window
left the heater off
left a hat on,

felt alright about it
could've been better
blew onto my hands
shook off the chill,
took off the hat,
rolled up my sleeves,
got comfortable

ready to type--

crosswinds

caught a glimpse of an
old man crying, having lived
anonymously 98 wasted years
unrecognized, seized his
aged heart in helpless wrinkled hand,
going with nothing to prove
his existence but frayed
stack of journals, unread,
unappreciated, piles of emotions
unrequited, ignored,
asked why me? with blind eyes
used to seeing so much, begged
for the probationary clause of god's whim,
wondering why not me?
what did I do wrong? was I not good enough?
what didn't I say?
and
I didn't have the time to
pick his lifeless body from the street
or say a meaningless word,
what with all the poems
blowing away--