Are we vehicles
to propagate
nucleic acids,
or scaffolding
for feet that they
might erode the
topsoil, create
riverbeds, canyons,
or are we a chassis
for lungs that exhale
and push air and
move butterflies
effectively?
Having yesterday leftovers
today. I don’t feel meant
for the moment. Glances
and hollow helloes in the
back of the fridge, mossy.
Tough stuff thrown into
pot luck for simmering.
Achievements seem wilted.
We can always microwave.
Nutrition negligible. Chow
now, somehow.
I’m wearing sleeves
on my insides. All the
uncool kids are
internalizing shirts,
and well-dressed
emotions with
pocket squares
are nominated
for awards. They
like them. They
really really
like them. And
the award goes to