won’t hold up

my thoughts won’t hold up . . .
all this deep fried scrutiny
totally rendered

disappearing now

into this breathing
and I barely hear the words . . .
disappearing now

turning

the world is turning
the galaxy is turning . . .
who’s watching the kids?

some excuse

more than all the stars . . .
these connections in my brain . . .
I’ll find some excuse

all these things

trained like Pavlov’s dog
I’m drooling at all these things . . .
but things keep changing

to get over

this poetic dream
I was born to get over . . .
to get over you

wants to know

is it still breathing
and is it still beating, too . . .
someone wants to know