Life’s Little Misdirections 🥀🦋

dirt naps 52 weeks a year

i'm in my hole
in my box
in the ground
approximately
six feet down
because i've dug
and dug
decades long
waiting for a long
dirt nap

but there's frost
and cardboard won't suffice
i'll be ice
before spring thaws

i'm in my garage
be-dimmed
with hammer and nails
and do it yourself
coffin kit

knotted pine
in gray heaps
hovers over cement dry
on two-by-fours

and there are instructions
this may take awhile

but eventually
I'll be fine
when it's time
if we ever know
when that is, and if
i'll need help
lowering down

for now
my hole is a time share
i rent
52 weeks a year

hope the earth
doesn't swallow up
before then

they all mock me
like Moses

the flood already came
and went
I'm just waiting
for the next


1.14.23
137 words of free verse. not long. not long like 30 lines sounds.

Dew Drop Edit ▼

i'm in my hole
in my box
in the ground
approximately six feet down
because i've dug
and dug
decades long
waiting for a long
dirt nap

but there's frost
and cardboard won't suffice
i'll be ice
before spring thaws

with hammer and nails
and do it yourself coffin kit
knotted pine in gray heaps
greets on the cement
and there are instructions

this may take awhile

eventually break the ice
thaw
I'll be fine
when it's time
if we can ever know when
that is, and if
i'll need help
lowering down

hope the earth
doesn't swallow up
before then

from 'living in the margins of minutia', an as-yet, ill-conceived book title of aspiring averageness.

I've gone through periods of this before. There are spats of blog entries with endless nattering of thought after thought of what did I mean by that?

let the exploration end again this morning at the drug cabinet, topped with the usual dose of caffeine.