Monday, February 15, 2010


The shake
The slight shake
Of my hand
Can be hidden
Folded up in an envelope
If need be
Or held at bay
By a wall of bricks
As fake as my smile
But these days
I more often forget
To notice
Even use my pockets
The simplest of things falling
The taste of plaster
In my mouth
Perhaps soon
I shall sit center
Facing all eyes
As I inflate
Paper boxes
To juggle
Behind my back

The twitch in my left eye
Is another matter