Mr. Bojangles,
Contemplates the angles.
Modern minds infinitely entangle
Simple strings and fluid streams of thoughts
Are getting ******* in knots
Not in a naughty way, but in a party state
Where people get to tell the time to clocks
Skipping rocks
Across the surface tension, in your office
Chip your dips in the swivel chair in the corner there
Please
Excuse me
While I try to explain to these birds why they’re not free
On a wing and a prayer flag TV set
And I always forget to mention what’s relevant.
Most of the poems I've posted so far I've written over the years. It's nice to be able to organize and formalize them here. This is one that's been jangling around in my head for over a decade now.
~2011