Today I Am Querulous
Today I am
querulous
my foot taps a rhythmless tattoo
my fingers roam unfulfilled
this bolus of undetermined want
slides down my throat,
invertebrate,
lodging in my stomach
dull,
as a faint scratching on a prison wall,
carving out the days
heavy,
as a stone unquarried and uncut,
the sculptor indecisive, reluctant to take up his chisel
some indeterminate
unfixed need
slithers, struggles for expression
through restive eyes
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