Having surgically dislocated
my soul
to a place like a rib
spanning heart and mind,
I find a much looser & locked
control. I adjust
by notch
to recalibrate fine,
and I find I can feel
and value and mean
just as feeling and being
as I mean to be. From well
to good, I tune in mean aim,
and if that's too bad? Well,
I'm kind of
glad
you
said something!
'Cause that's all my
fault, when I do or say
something I didn't mean
to be.
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?
Saturday, August 27, 2022
rough operator
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