Blog poetry reflections WRITING

compass walls

compass walls

an offer too big left too much room for thought
an offer too small left too much room to walk
an offer just right left no room in walls

father is the title on the birth certificates so at the gate it was assumed we’d come in last. that’s what i thought when an employer held out a carrot in the belief they were the provider. every man and woman has a trick or two up their sleeve so whoever gets naked first has an unseen upper hand. a naked heart is the most intimidating thing in all the world. so i don’t call anyone sir or ma’am whose forgotten a tiny footprint admired in ink dries to symbolism. everyone eventually attunes their footsteps with the way according to the heart’s compass.

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