A Pocketful of Poesy was and is again a Poem-a-Day(-on-Average) Blog! For 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, and now for 2017 and going forward, you may expect to see 365 poems every year, 366 for leap years.

but aren't they all random?

Sunday, September 23, 2018

correction

I probably slept
on it wrong all night.
Slumbering through the warning cramps,
waking up to a struggling light

in my eyes,

And the stabbing twinge in my neck
has trained my body to hold my head
a certain way

that seems to indicate

dispassion, reserve, equanimity, but

in fact is a broken submission to nerve
and whatever else

is enflamed or strained,
or has been so disturbed

as to shoot this pain out
into blameless neck,

and straighten me up
upon pain of wreck.

It has trained me so well,
to hold myself
- I soon forget. I carry my attitude

naturally,
until someone says something
I unexpect,

and I look up happy, surprised
then impaled

to suddenly realize

I have made a false move.
Not such as have narrowly

been approved. On no, wasn't
you, wasn't

what you said. In fact, I don't know
what that was. It was me

the anguished face,
the dismay:

I was incorrect.

I am going to bed, now
because.

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