15 october

The blind pedestrian looks for clues

Measures twice, crosses once

There are no sunsets we don’t mine

Turning over tired pillows for second-chance dreams

Let me call you sweetheart for a quarter

Tomorrow will be too late to remember

Even as the hour swallows itself

Whole answers solve riddles in half the time

Writing their own monologues

Keeping up appearances, keeping up the neighbors

Oh, how they love to talk—

Give those windows something to show!

These are the miracles of 7 pm

The socks lost for good

Searching for salvation under secondhand couches

It was then I bought the projector

Hoping for clarity on a larger scale

Expanding details, revealing shoelaces

Here is where the button ends

Wait until the feeling’s gone

This is what I tell the publisher

I pretend I am the author

I acknowledge I am the therapist

I entertain the audience

I bow to the interior

I am the blind pedestrian