Tuesday, April 21, 2020

NaPoWriMo, Day Twenty-One, Poem Twenty-One


Back to Work

Essentials say
thought begets
more thought,
bad for economy.

Look over shoulder
during solitaire,
say I'm doing it wrong.

Tug at my time,
long locks of hair
I no longer have.

No better authority
on how to breathe
than hands over mouth.

They only want
a little company
to die before them.

Never being
along again is
a threat, and a
fistful promise. 


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