Fitting In
- Posted Wednesday, October 19th, 2005 at 7:17 PM
- |
- Poetry
I look so goddamn normal
That it ought to relax me
But I still have a wad of chicken wire that is
Bent into crooked cosines
Inside my stomach.
Determining my wrong is like
Playing Where’s Waldo with dust;
It pulled me from day-to-day’s cocoon
Into the dry crackle of
Exception’s heat.
Sunlight begets ray of sunlight
And I wither on the vine;
I still feel as nauseous
As a seat cushion borne
Of a Tilt-a-Whirl.
[...] read anything here, but I was amused to see a line about cosines in one of your poems (”Fitting In“). All of your essays are at least two years old; some of them are dry school assignments. I [...]