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Like an Elf in an Empty Tree


April 17





Like an Elf Working in an Empty Tree


The chairs in the loft are empty, but I still hear the choir sing.  The bottle though it’s empty, still sometimes calls my name.  Though front pocket is empty and there is rolled up empty sleeve, still the nicotine haunts my dreams. On this empty road I travel, I still long for company.  The stillness is not all that’s empty, but I run to fill that spot.  Chaos is like a tapeworm it eats me from inside, but in the meantime I still believe it’s filling me. 








Curve around what is sharp on your tongue






Not everyone who pushes me down is my enemy

Not everyone who pulls me up is my friend

I have been seduced by the closeness of people

Who used me as their shield


When I have been held in a place of honor

The  point man of life

I forgot that made me the replacement target

For the one who stood behind me


I have been offended as I was thrown to the ground

The hands that shoved me I saw as my rejecters

I was spared the tragedy and peril of the thing which flew by my ear

Thanks only to the grace of a thrust in the right direction


Accurate appraisal is my weakness

Seeing thing for what they are is hard

Things are rarely how they seem