As our best selves, we are still no better than the mice
that churn like ants on this small revolving orange.
As our worst selves, we are still no worse than the fish
that bite and tear the skin of drowning calves.
And so I sit, pen in my mouth and fingers slowly searching these
ergonomically placed keys, thinking if it is optimism or pessimism
that makes me think I should be heard.
No comments:
Post a Comment