windrag : poetry : journal

I think i should. if i were true, that’s what i’d do. i want to be that one who does. who does it ’cause it’s just the thing to do. who does it beautifully

i asked him if he wanted to pick the lullabies or if dadú should pick. he said, “you pick.” i fell asleep before he did. our roles are interchangeable.

cool spring night. another failure to attain set goals. not grasping, not avoiding, who prepares for sleep?

i rarely go for night walks anymore and when i do i hurry home and bolt the door. tonight, i heard a rustle- fresh vegetables from our neighbor

the doctor sees the lesion on my calf describes it with an acronym writes a prescription. i ask for details. he answers with credentials. i’m not comforted.