Aug. 20, 2013

Gnats Dance

by Brandon Green (author's profile)


*Gnats Dance*

Overslept. [?] to parole
I go home tomorrow
my dreams hijacked me these past two nights
waking up groggy crossing out fourteen on my calendar
Can see the gun slowly traipsing
across the cement floor
*Like the *minute hand on a clock
dead silence. Except for in the distance
subtle sounds of police
Listing universal weights
Clink. Clank. All correspondence wrapped up
sitting stacked by the door
waiting for the mailbox
I won't lie. Looking forward to seeing females
forms other than these I've dies beside
very small gnat flies onto my desk
doing acrobatics above breakfast
oatmeal residue thats dried
I bring my eye real close
and its like he knows
dancing and twirling just for me
I smile. Now, ready for parole.

I've learned to be very wary
of everything and everybody
that the more you give some bodies
the less they'll respect you
I've seen and studied personalities galore
and the majority is meanness
couched in the insecure, immature

Does something bring its eye
real close to me as I move
is this life so insubstantial
that all I am is a grin
on more intelligent lifes' face
do we all just cartwheel
in dried oatmeal
mistaking the minute hand for days

A groggy philosopher
scared of his own shadow
solitary encaged he awakes
A woman at war
alone in this mans woes
going about her nights and days
does she think a gnats life is pretty?


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