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Poetry: Being grumpy

LIQUEFIED AND RECYCLED

The blue-gray light of winter
smooths across my skin as I sit
here beneath this window
vacant as I've ever been
hollow like a Sunday afternoon
dead as the solitary leaf
that trembles politely in a
lethargic-however sudden-burst
of air.

It waits for an exit
anticipating freedom
praying for the wind
to coil up and pounce.

I feel empathy
then great sadness.

Time moves in lines and spaces
all around me.

I am boxed in,
confined.
I am half dressed
yet wearing shoes.
I am void of depth
and drowning in it.

I cling unwavering to a thought
that leaves me like an artful lover.
The door slams shut.
My mind empties and flattens
and squishes between your toes.
You dig deeper and I am liquefied.
Suck me up and spit me out.

I am easily recycled.

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Poetry: Being grumpy

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    by Russell Holder

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    by Julie Yedinak

    LIQUEFIED AND RECYCLED

    The blue-gray light of winter
    smooths across my skin as I sit
    here beneath this window
    vacant as I've

    read more

  • 5 of 33

    by Diane Wahlheim

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Poetry: Being grumpy

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