1270

LOOKING FOR, LABELS IN THE DRAWER

Taps on the rowboat
Glowing in the other antidote
I medicate a while
It's not my nature to agree

When you came over carrying two chairs
I knew in the end I was going
To fling myself across the finish line

That's how it is
In the family curse business
Every weekend spent cleaning the mailing list

Every afternoon given over to phone calls
Cream, crumb, corm, karma
The relationships manage me

Fourteen lines, every one the same