Monday
published at zygoteinmycoffee.com in 2006

It’s a nightmare,
billowing out as the world’s chiffon dress.
Falling conscience, windowless rooms,
scent of lilies drifting toward itching eyes.

Air, air, air calm,
I am not here, this is wearing thin.
Teach an apple to fall off its tree,
but it falls only when the weight pulls too hard.
Hard, hard, hard fall,
unexpected and bruising.