I kind of love the face
I almost make
when suddenly
I'm not so sure what
I'm trying to do will work.
Already midstream in
the act! No thought
of going back, too late
to shirk, it's
kind of sour - stupid,
huh? That stone is
not so near to step.
This soup du jour is
not as you'd envisioned it,
and so much more
in bigger bowl
than you'd expect.
I know
that face,
because it feels
just like it looks, and
I will catch a peep
in mirror's face
when trying to trim
my beard.
It goes too far,
too close, so there's
the look
I almost make,
right there.
Right here.
It says oh fuck
it. I'll just shave.
The path of least
resistance paved
all clear
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