Head High

A poem from my self-published collection "(interrobang) lament for lost time" available here: http://www.lulu.com/spotlight/straydogblues

Head high.

You may be on your tippy toes,

But just take a look around,

You really are (really, look!)

Just rolling in the dirt, on the ground.

                              Watch.

               Do you feel it?

That feeling in the pit of your despair?              

               At the break of day.

When you don’t have your glue or tape,

               Not near enough,

-And plagued by panic.

               Under watery sea foam.

It’s not too bad actually.

               Not once you get used to the daffodils,

And locate your motor oil,

                              And let me drown in those eyes.

               You need to dream sometimes.

Let me live on,

                              On your hollow-vowel isle.