Month: April 2025

Why storm

into tide. And hope

for stillwater. Having grown

smaller than the soul of

a mayfly. Its tickling

of our skin and

a generating

of internal steam.

a crowd of fools can’t

stop laughing. they elect

to be fools. though

enter our perception without

permission. that they

laugh instead of

sigh. though assault us with

the clicking

of painted fingernails.

and laugh

and click and lacking

purpose other than

to have something to

do. showing us

rude pictures that

propel us into

a restless sleep.

and cough

into their elbows instead

of saying excuse me.