Nothings

Don't be afraid.
I'm looking at you 
this way because 
I'm cold.
Cold?  
No, just old.

She is gnawing.
My stomach growls.
That is all.

I would like to be seen and heard.
Are you ready?

The categories call to her as we play while I like it all mixed up.  We switch places in our real lives, of course.

I just woke up in this body one day.

I have put on my
thinking cap and am
now ready for thoughtful
inaction.

He squealed as the 
thought of a purple leprechaun now 
living in your butt 
(already containing everything) because it
became far too much.

There is a lightness to 
this place that is sensed most when you see the deer right outside the door.

Taking out the trash makes
me feel like a good man.  Like I 
am paying homage to all of those
TV show Dads and the can.

Just then, as I 
decided to feel 
lucky again, I 
smiled and 
shouted, 
"Fuck it all to hell!"

He keeps changing his name while saying, 
"Take your vitamins."
Is he alphabet impaired?

Just because the
lights shine doesn't mean
it will or won't be all right.

Wink!  That is what I say.
Wake up and wink everyday.
Ha, ha, ha.

The rusted places on
my soul are crumbling.
Can you hear the clanking in
the night as these
chains shift?
Now I am gone.

I was trying to back the fucking car up without 
running over that damn cat while she sat shotgun
laughing at me, the spatially impaired sculptor, in action.

We keep going through it.  Taking one step at a time.
It's like grown-up hopscotch.
Jumping but without admitting there is less reason or rhyme.