Poem thing

Here's a poem I wrote yesterday while at the Ottawa U. library crouched down on the third floor behind some biological/pest control bookcase section. What was I doing there? All I could think was finding some place quiet to pile myself into a slouchy position to write the burning poetic thing that was on my mind. God, I ended up with this poop. All that work to find an amiable place to sort out my innerdepths and, squat. So, I've decided everyone should suffer and have to read it. Maybe I can blame it on the heat.


my bones are breaking
cracked straight through

ankles drowning within the
pull of long grass

they rally for our capture
6 inches in

chase the progress we've made

your feet are ugly, or it is
the weather

we commit to finding a way out



Goodnight!