red real burrow

he offed himself

on himself

from a life

where he often

felt like something

awful was missing

until he found it

quite naturally

eyes rolling back

into the offering

of himself

*

i am in a streetwar

between the sky and the ground

and though the ground has at least

two legs up on the battle

i have begun

to walk on my hands oddly

stumbling and collapsing

to even the score

*

trying to stay motivated

takes much motivation

which i don’t have the time to

try to motivate myself towards

by just staying here

*

my poems have

been reduced to snippets

for i am struggling to

see anything except

white chickens

and a red wheelbarrow that so much

may depend on

but so few ever stop to

ask the chickens

what they think of the scenery

and all its been

reduced to