but she said, “it’s tongue in cheek, isn’t it?”
it is. it’s tongue in cheek with one foot in the grave
hieroglyphics from the future.
reverse archeology

spray paints my well borne dilemma.
trains now travel 350 mph
in reverse.

relook that scenery
the wheat waves to no one but me
and that lump in my throat

means only that the past beckons.
don’t cry with me, little darling
i didn’t mean…

no. i don’t mean nothin
these are tears of joy.

she says, “i hope i didn’t start something. are you okay?”

ask me yesterday because i was strong and confident
the fears that followed me lost my scent

i still swam mountains and conquered trees
i never would have succumbed to this disease.