Friday, July 20, 2007

Poem #201 of 365

My chronology collapses on the floor
when it gets shoved off my desk,

tea leaves could make sense of this
if only i would sip the sips.

Rob swats at me with a butterfly net
but I told him I must migrate

and get lost in my own sidecar
without a destiny or driver.

This inadvertent girl doesn't
respect parallel parking spaces

and forgets to care about clocks
in the middle of weddings, work.

I would headbutt adulthood if it
meant I could stay in the backseat

of the chevrolet, swallowing wind
and negotiating innocence.

copyright 2007 tammy melody gomez

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