Can you fill the position as my outlet
as my spout
my bucket is filling up,
I am spilling over
can you wade through the knee deep water
is it my anger?
can you put up through the stupid
“how are you”'s
Sure,
you can stay
if you can be a pathway out of the dead end street
that leads me to your creek
if you can be the sun ray that blinds me,
so I’ll put the visor down
the first spark that starts the fire
the first poem out of too many
you’re the hole in the wall that’s inside my chest;
let me out