By sarah iristakeroot@juno.com
Date: 3 September 2000
bending
its gray with non distinctive clouds
and the green seems to have lost some
of its color
the asphalt with its bright yellow lines
and streaks of red from recent victims
the day is cold though it wraps me
in its humidity and the day waits
again and i wonder if it will take me
and toss me around
could i be so tired
again
i'm collecting cobwebs
i'm dusty and sitting in a corner
waiting for someone to notice that i'm here
and i'm neglected
you can't find me in your antique book
i'm in front of you
but your in a day thats gray
and you can't see the shape of a cloud
and theres a road with a yellow stripe on it
and you drive down that road
can you see me here
i'm yelling at you
though i'm covered in a bell jar
do you feel me?
i'm a mosquito biting you, drawing your blood
maybe then at least you will touch me
and you'll feel me long after you have killed
what little of me there is
i fear your crowds and i turn my eyes to any
waiting diversion
and your love that you drink from tepid water
your love that you call on in memory
that she was tall and beautiful
and you took a artistic picture of her ass
and i'm your stump
your little garden gnome
the gnome that is covered by years of growth
in a neglected garden
and now the sky is turning black, and i hear the thunder rolling
across the hills speeding its way toward me
and now i'm being assaulted by the rain drops
as they bend the blades of grass to their will
just as i am bending now
and i hate it
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