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Jack Blevins Nov 2017
surfing the waves of the fishbowl which is my head
swirling the lengths, surrounded by other tanks
we cannot help but peer into each other's worlds
some transparent, some murky
and, oh dear, some with one-way glass!

we try to relate, as if we could cross those barriers
those seemingly invisible membranes
but instantly met with the limits of the fish bowl
smack!

and around and around i go
counting laps and cleaning glass
this silly fishbowl of mine
Jack Blevins Nov 2017
aeons of stability
against the grain of the counter-odds
here we are
still teased by that finicky fickle face of adversity

the oldest of the bunch laugh back
their dentures pelting the pompous face
one of them mutters
"now, now, talk is cheap, get some sleep"
Jack Blevins Nov 2017
only the burliest of shotputters and the master craftsman of the grandest of trebuchets fully understand my insatiable lust to be thrown large distances
Jack Blevins Nov 2017
ripped to shreds
the sheddings of the demands coming in contact with the heart
shooting myself in the foot?
detonating the centre of the very direction

guided by the tricklings
waking up from every end, intending to navigate back home

and repeat
Jack Blevins Nov 2017
caught in a strainer of a world so new squished into my antics

buzzing currents pushing feedback loops, both sides of the same

there, that stagnant gummy domain is eager for my approach

this time, i can't help but create him

a strange birthplace could be complimented with curious results

— The End —