a poem
written in the
dentist’s waiting room
may only have to do
with our not so pearly
or so white teeth
if fillings had feelings
or
if we over-chewed
and under-swallowed
or
our bite
had an agenda
more than just
food consumption
I drain the pool’s water with a pump that must be unplugged before it sucks air at the same time shedding lots of slippery ideas to hopefully leave a good one then it’s critical when filling the pool
it’s a dog nap afternoon but I’ll keep my eyes open for awhile follow thoughts that drag through windless leaves everything heat-stilled how can there be poetry without movement no clouds in a blue sk