public offerings

March 3, 2013 § Leave a comment

my brain hwarked up
a mess
and there it is
steaming on
the throw-rug
of my morning
by the doors of inspiration
I stare at it through
tears of strain
and sniff at it
to see if there is anything
familiar in its stench
other than the fact
that there is enough
of me in its makeup
to decipher a few
lines of code
it is a nondescript
pile left
for people to step over
they always seem to do so
while grimacing
and checking to see
if any of it
got on their shoes

(c) 2013 Fred Whitehead

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