Hit and Outrun

Trailhead latrine,  
cracked mirror—  
three of me grinning wrong.  
A soap shaver's chewed itself down, 
there's a beetle on its back in the basin.
I clean my hands as best I can,  
wipe them on my pants,  
get out,  
back into wilderness,
where I don't have to face them.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2025

Poem

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Cornish Avatar
May 22, 2025 at 12:21 PM
Many won't get the complex simplicity of this, but to me it's a poem that elicits a thousand thoughts!
Thomas Avatar
May 23, 2025 at 3:20 PM
Thank you, Craig. It's a good thing I'm comfortable being misread or misunderstood (or not read at all if we're being totally transparent) -- it's honestly the best perk of aging and getting to know yourself. There was something you wrote in a comment a while back (not mine but i can't remember who) that was along the lines of not needing 'like' or 'as' and just 'letting the metaphor be' that struck me. That was the inspiration for this sparse piece. I've been trying to trim lately :)
Thomas Avatar
May 23, 2025 at 3:20 PM
Also, thank you so much for the placement. I sincerely feel honored.
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