saturday, april 18

lzrd

lzrd.

iteration

(I wasn't going to post this. Blame Sipple.)

        a crew of guys with shovels
is clearing off the sidewalks
you can hear snowplows backing up somewhere
inside i      an imperfect j
and i sit in the living room dark
like most things better shared
sometimes this is beautiful on your own
the refrigerator hum, the faint sounds
of the neighbor's television arguments
and friday night drinking, the
           quiet of a deep, wet snow
the         certainty sound of its melting
car tires through     slush and muck
dead air inside     somehow knowledge
of     green grass waiting underneath
and within that snow for its few weeklong
moments of raindrenched sunthirsty glory

a crew of guys with shovels
is clearing off the sidewalks
you can hear snowplows backing up somewhere
inside i am imperfect
and sit in the living room dark
like most things better shared
sometimes this is beautiful on your own
the refrigerator hum, the faint sounds
of the neighbor's television arguments
and friday night drinking,
quiet of deep, wet snow
certainty sound of its melting
car tires slush and muck
dead air but somehow 
green grass waiting underneath
and within that snow
its few weeklongs of
raindrenched sun thirst.

outside a crew with shovels
clears the sidewalks
i hear snowplows backing up
inside i am imperfect
and sit in the living room dark
like most things better shared
sometimes this is beautiful on your own
refrigerator hum, faint sounds
of nearby arguments
and friday night drinking,
the wet quiet of snow
certainty of its melting
car tires in the muck
green grass waiting underneath
and within
its weeks.

       i am imperfect
        in the             dark
          things better shared
sometimes         beautiful on your own

                  faint sounds

and                       
        quiet        
                        
                     
            waiting           


i'm alone, but
things better shared
are sometimes beautiful on your own

faint sounds
and quiet waiting