Over 16,526,068 people are on fubar.
What are you waiting for?
There comes the hurt.
All the burnt, severed pieces returned to me.
All the things I flung into the night.
Bitter metal.
Cold fingers.
Wet sneezes full of sting and blood.
Sour like day old laundry.
Unwelcome like a fifth place at dinner.
Over the blank hill.
The sinking star backdrop.
Open field of dry, salty, cracked earth.
Nowhere to hide.
No shady brook to contemplate.
No time to run
my feet were too tired anyway, my shoes too thin.
No place but to plop, rest
and kiss the innevitable as it passes.
The holes it will leave in me
the scrapes and six inch grazes
this time
will anything be left?
