I can’t stop the noise for long enough to buy
a pair of shoes and so I walk these aisles
with gritted teeth. Now you call
me angry and so what if I am crying?
Everyone sleeps while I
sit being spoken to, not listening
with a melancholy air. Spiders
find me since there are
no windows here and they —
as black as black —
are crawling, crawling, crawling
Still I am stronger for they
do not carry this weight. This itchy
stabbing weight. And they
I cannot walk too long upon these young and veiny knees.
Everyone’s a ghost and if I ever meet them they
will look past and ask about this scar or my arm
or make a sporting joke. And we will laugh at first
thinking we have found new water. But it won’t be. Just
another drowning pool.
Shooting stars and betting boots. This isn’t
photo Jo ©2013