Good Out of Whack

This is not right
shivering in sunshine
chilly in the warm arms of love
still angry at the sublime
table all set and laden with
hunger for what’s mine.

This is not good
missing on my birthday
wandering lost in my hometown
either half or twice my age
it would be better if I were
a prince charming on stage.

Here and now out of whack
mouth of long-gone wine
a taken-apart sandwich in a pile
my optimism undone
wind threatening to blow it
into the neighbors’ fences.

Who says what’s proper?
some untouchable group?
I can disappear for a month at a time
into a pungeant landscape
and not change who I am
only my scent and shape.

Correctness is a big act
we all follow the rules
which is good and right and proper
fooling noone and everyone
to keep your insides intact
lock them in a locker.

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About mrsorenson

all over the place
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