Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Aug 2014
it's past midnight
and my thoughts is just
fuzz, lintballs and
cotton candy
rolling around like
tumble weeds
across a vast and barren plain
that purports to  a working
i am so very far beyond
myself that i am forgetting
who i am....why...

it is grant writing season
and i have used my quota
of words ...

so just visualize
something wonderful,
off to the west over there..
while i sleep over under
this tree here....
and if i am quiet enough, maybe i will come back,
to me.

then the carniva,
will begin again
sonetimes real life is
such a grind...
thiswas me last night, writing
add one more day of writing
academic and theatrical jargon.... and see me sitting
slack jawed in the corner...
just don't poke me...truly
i might bite..or just begin to drool...
Written by
betterdays  F/east coast australia
(F/east coast australia)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems