Even I
think that 
this one 
is crap
come on
who brought 
the tomatoes 
and the 
rotten eggs 
to catapult 
let’s have 
a riot
be it
belly laughter
or revolt

The more 
I write 
the less
I know 
therefore 
I have 
every intention 
to die 
a fool

At first the 
lake was a 
source of reflection
upon which I 
gazed and then 
it froze over 
and I stuck
clawed and scratched 
to free myself 
from icy doom
and now again 
at waters edge 
I longingly peer
past the water 
onto the distant 
shore and wonder 
how ever I 
will get there 
from over here 

If a mile
seems too far 
think then of
a foot and 
the many inches 
most things that 
happen go unnoticed 

Finding has
always been 
my purpose 
and having 
my pursuit 
but once 
now had
the joy 
of getting 
withers on
the very
vine I’d
so desperately 
planted too
much or
too little 
or not 
enough of
this and 
that and 
other things 
dried now 
just decor
of its 
once thriving 
sitting on
sill soaking 
up sun
blindly there