Wednesday, March 18, 2009


He kept waiting for the explosion
The change
The moment of convergence where all
Windows would open up and spit out
A stream of marching Men's Warehouse
Stepping above our heads
Shoulder to hand
Hand to shoulder

I just wanted my paper
Just wanted my silence
My shield and a coffee
But I could see the fuses hanging out
The corners of his eyes
Begging the opportunity

Sipping my coffee
I went back to waiting as well
Loosening and stretching my hand to better grab
The collar in front of me

One can never be too sure.