Wait and See

I am a storeroom
nothing ordered but floorboards
I am a bank of snow
result of covered up history.

Following my circulation
the seven seas I sail
in every port a confession
every meal my last.

The aroma of chicken broth
the gray of change of weather
wait a bit and wait and see
if it evens out into meditation.

I am paranormal anything but
a maker, counter and spender
of dull and not quite green
bills bearing famous faces.

I am a beggar’s bowl
everything unnecessary flung
into a hole in the road
with gravel, tar and history.

My brakes stepped on hard
spin me into the next world
I have more maps in my head
than ideas soiled by statement.


About mrsorenson

NOT my president
This entry was posted in poem, poetry and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s