PORTRAIT OF TUESDAY MORNING

two eyes i wish i'd lost are all i've got
blinking at a white screen.

i can't tell if i'm underwater or not ,
this worries me i choose not to inhale.

soon another year will be done.
i'll sit at a table somewhere and count
the hairs sperm and sunday afternoons i've lost,

compare them to the gains ,
and decide my worth.

but for now
the same two eyes,
the same white screen.

the same named days of the week.

next year i'll rename them: Marcy, Constantinople, Wednesbury,
Catharsis, Felicity, Scoundrel and Lucy.

then i'll pretend every moment of my life were
a pearled string of Lucy afternoons
i'd swim in.


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remind me to delete this post later.