I want 
the rut
that grind
of familiar
the beat
and cadence 
so much 
of this 
perpetual foraging 
lays waste 
to focus 
I’d rather 
just pause 
put and
plant roots 
right here 
rather than 
being anywhere 

I have a 
positivity hangover now 
being on that
upward climb of
the emotional roller
coaster hearing that
all too familiar 
clackety clack of
mind missing the 
teeth of heart
and the skips
gaffes and pauses 
between impatience and 
kindness and aggression 
elixir is needed 
maybe some attention 
from a lover 
a little coo
a little kiss 
a dollop of
come here cream 
topped with some 
silly little sprinkles 
of ill placed 
teasing buttercream kisses 

I must find 
my wit it
must’ve slid off
of the bed
in my sleep 
and now hiding 
beneath and behind 
my slippers holiday
decorations and dust 
bunnies how might 
I know I 
can hear them 
giggling you see
dust bunnies are
a silly lot
and laugh at
wits worst jokes 

New curtains hang
the old ones 
grew ever so 
tired like love 
lost and never 
found again except 
on the faces
of once had
been lovers and 
those who frequent 
the corner stool
at the end 
of a bar 

I fill a
void a niche 
or maybe I’m
the void or
the niche inviting 
others to fill 
whichever it is 
the fill or
the emptiness that 
I am I 
am always here