Openly Moving Drama
tell me, you say Camus is a memory to you
I think it's strange the way he gets me too
I found this lately on the bus ride where
well suddenly it just seems like noplace
as every part of the past uprooted into
this new day, I am wandering through this
ancient military disaster looking through
piles of wreckage, when they ask, folding
chairs into trucks on some journey to
awakening.
the world is like a doll to me, smiling in the window
overtaking history with her little shoes
what situations are these, tailored like some
foolish plastic dream of disorder and tantrums
I stood cold staring at the chaos drilling out my
lines, finding them like, twist only, or push to open
Copyright © Jonathan Elliott | Year Posted 2013
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