A poem #90 -Sk:pp:ng needles

Feeling like the wasted yoke of an egg
spilling out into the pan.
For all of my faults and for all that I’ve tried,
it seems I’ve done all that I can.

How did it come to this?
It will take us some time to understand.
We were on our last print when the ink ran out,
you took “that tone” with me and I jammed.

Sometimes the camera captures the things
that the brain ignores,
I’m skipping needles over moments in which we were happy:
the moments that Desertion applauds.

JP Collins

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s