Eggs in the morning

blue skies after months of rain

3 friends want to talk

after I haven’t talked to anyone

in weeks

this is how it goes


the moments in between

when I feel like myself

I know it’s not victories that do it

but the victories help

So often, it’s…

“What do you have?”

“What do I have?”

“I guess I’m doing all right.”

People get talked about

like they’re far off

but nobody gets immortalized

it doesn’t matter

I’m always looking for something that doesn’t make sense

Most people look at what doesn’t add up, “as crazy”

“She’s not playing with a full deck.”

if they get closer

they might find,

she always wins.

Maybe there isn’t an undercurrent of intrigue

but I like to think so

people aren’t what they seem

places are more than solid wood

An old man with crocodile toes smokes on his boat

drinking wine

and typing

Is he mad

if he talks to himself

and nobody else listens

He is an amphibian

a creature that rests in the sun

He lives in a way

nobody else can

and he does it so well

misery is foreign to him

although, many see him as half-a-step away from someplace

they never want to be

and they will never know him

or his way of being.

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