Tomorrow

Tomorrow
the end of today

the end of the year

the end of love
the end of loves lost

the end of grieving for people, passion, and poetry

the end of burying my head in the sand

the end of pretending

the beginning of something fresh, like vegetables and water

the beginning of developing relationship capabilities

the beginning of doing what I feel
the beginning of really feeling what I’m doing

the beginning of a new, more improved me consisting of:

reflection

caution
-less?

Development

Symmetry

Warmth

Thought

The ability to dive head first, no whammies, and being ready for the consequences

to not succumb to macbeths soliloquy, to control my bouts of apathy and to fully personify the notion that i am living.

i am REALLY living.

"To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,

Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing."

Little Red Whisker

though, almost impossible to see

my little red whisker makes a mockery of me



its so damn small

the hair won't split

if it would just grow out

i could get to it



and alas no one will help me

i've asked everyone in town

but no one returns a small favor

for someone who begs from the ground



the barber thinks i'm crazy

my mama turned out her light

and everyone i have met lately

seems to think my whisker ain't right



so i fumble with my little fore finger

its stubbly tune i still play

and if it never gets any bigger

i'll know it was put there to stay