I pour water so slowly
that it evaporates
on the way up out the spout.
I cry with tears that well up
glistening from an emotional stir,
but they never leave my eyes
when looking directly out at you.
I come to words
that take days to form
from the outset into pronounceable,
with such thoroughness and conviction
that I leave myself behind
by saying them.
I have thoughts that linger
into internal monuments of stature,
that experiences seasons of the year
to gaze upon in passing.
time has been a neighbor of mine,
since as long as memory
has been the town I live in.
every now and then,
there is an infestation of buzzwords
not quite seasonal in appearance
but as thick as thought could ponder.
and when they come
I don't know what they devour,
but it gets to the stage
of being thunderously loud
and taxingly annoying.
all this makes me wonder,
what the world is made of,
for taking us
where we all want to go . . .
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