Sunday, February 08, 2004

1037

WHAT IT FEELS LIKE

A crushed cardboard box,
Like being hungry and thirsty
And needing a drink, being pushed
On a swing when you're not
Ready, like sharp cold air

Then I breathe and tilt my head
Wake up and look around
I'm inside it watching the electrons
Play their musical glasses
I'm pushing me to the side of myself