steerage
August 15, 2016 § Leave a comment
there are those days
when, 20 min. in you begin
to believe the evidence
that suggests a mistake, but
the ship has already left the slip
with you on it
so there it is
maybe along the way
some stratification will occur
heavier emotion
settling out across the seabed
of your day
the current of all the rest
swirling above
barely keeping
the rusting bulk afloat
down in steerage
pressed against the throng
you have only
fresh air and solitude
on your mind
as the ship
quite unapologetically
steams ahead
(c) 2016 Fred Whitehead
a blocking
August 3, 2016 § 2 Comments
it is
as if Jupiter sticks his finger
into my frontal lobe
to just past
the first knuckle
the way
a keeper of houseplants does
when determining
proper moisture content
and the
act of differentiating
between hum of June bugs
and the
drum line in my skull
is becoming bothersome
trying to squint through
the
gauze over
my narrative
the muslin
over the
window of thought
(c) Fred Whitehead