REMIX1

sweeping the floor

talking circles to myself.

the cascading view,

somewhere we seek not

unknown and insignificant-

less time, less time

scrubbing the stove

and we never seem to know.

elusively logical, misplaced,

here and there and everywhere...

ends are worthless

mindless driving machines,

rigid with non-movement

nothing to say, nothing to say

long walks

in the cavernous pit of ourselves

we are alive, living every day