Pilot

Pilot

A Poem by p.kuhl

There I go,
down boulevards on lunch breaks,
filing myself between dropped scoops
of ice cream and drooped eyes; I go
drooling along the promenade

as a prize
steams like steak at the finish
line. This is a temp job, at best.
I have thirty-five minutes to
save my soul with some morsel of

prophetic
soul food. My movements pull me
to model T mentality,
walking down Tetris bricks to the
steady heartbeat metronome

of my toe.
I am not the pilot here.
This is not my vessel, and I
will feel these black bodies passing
right through me and into the streets.

© 2013 p.kuhl



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nice emptiness, always in everyday life....

Posted 4 Years Ago



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Added on November 15, 2013
Last Updated on November 15, 2013

Author

p.kuhl
p.kuhl

Bloomington, IN



About
My name is Pierce, and I am a 23 year old English major at Indiana University. "How easily I connect to you. You're always everything at once, somehow. You're shy and open, sweet and cold, curious .. more..

Writing
Heidi and I Heidi and I

A Poem by p.kuhl