Journey From Couch to Keypad

There’s a certain way to be wrong, –
I’ll see who I am after last night’s argument
I’ll try to think through my fingers
Loping on this nameless groove machine

I’ll root around for a symbol on my keypad
Looking for a way to describe the volume level
A falling house of cards, – all grind & grave
It’s animal; a beast lowing in lounge light

It’s clear that the moon is a cushiony thing
And I’ll always collide with it, because I’m blind
I never see it coming, – I feel better having said this
Invulnerable, and irrevocably immune to denial

for Sunday Whirl  and Real Toads


16 thoughts on “Journey From Couch to Keypad

  1. I admire the way you have blended the poetic and prosaic styles to create a commentary of life which we can easily relate to, a familiar portrait. Thanks for participating.

  2. Each stanza tells a larger story, no?
    “There’s a certain way to be wrong, –
    I’ll see who I am after last night’s argument”

    I have often thought (and said) that a good writer is one who can write from their lens, tell their story and make it feel like it came from the reader’s heart.

    You did it again. It’s like you were sitting on my couch. xo

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