Monday, September 19, 2016

pessimism in the morning.

if I knew where this was going
we’d most likely
be well on our way
banking certainties, and documenting
our movements in poetry,
but I let you
fold me up in your back pocket
crushed, and often
retstrained underneath the weight
unable to effectively breathe
until you start moving again

if I didn’t have
all of these unnecessary and
silly expectations
no one would ever disappoint me
we’d just be swimming
in synchronistic formations,
humming murmurations on the wind
never quite colliding
maybe we would be choosing 
coordinating patterns
for serving dishes and flatware,
and naming the family pet




© 9.19.2016 heather brager

1 comment:

  1. I have never witnessed a holding pattern with so many discernible paths that lead in, but none apparent for departure.

    Very clever poem; clever is what appeals to me the most, especially when I personally know and like the host... Seriously, this is fantastic.

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