Utter Foolishness
Dusted off my heart this morning
almost choked on the particulate
matter.
Tired of calculating with my pocket watch,
my mind.
It's nobody's business but my own, wallet
open on the carpet.
The body, the body always knows
first.
In the end
or is it the beginning?
Heart strung around my throat
dipping into cleavage.
Can you see it hanging there?
Or hear the beat of a lonely tune,
banged out on a keyboard.
Are You Lonesome
Tonight?
April 1, 2016
prompt: a foolish
poem
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