Monday, April 18, 2011

Selective

For these are the measures of the everyday assassin
wash hands and sanitize.
Moisturize.

Every thing in its place.
Hair. Bullets.

For you will assume news is anachrony.
For you will know anarchy is nothing.

Nothing.
Nothing is nothing.

Below, a window--
To the window.

All is quiet within.
And you are steel.

Smile.



No comments:

Dial F for flaky

It's the middle of the night so I can't text to apologize, but I just realized that I absolutely flaked on Saturday yoga with J ! I ...