22.2.09

Scraps

In progress:

Rather

Rather
Empty my chest cavity than open up,
Rather
Cut wrists – fan blades on low, so slow,
So stop-start – than reach out-connect.
Rather
Leave this in silence: I have plenty to say, I just ...
Can't think in time to your rhythm, syncopated
Against the grain, words cut bare,
I always walk home in silence.
I always climbed trees to get off the earth,
Rather
Like a bird with clipped wings.