Christmas 2016

The lies I tell are convenient lies
The drive too long
The screen too present
I don't know where I belong
But if I could unwind the lies
the drive, the screen
I would find nature's nut
patient sustenance stuck
in between
the uteri
and the lies, the drive, the screen.

Poor Trait

I saw a picture of a painting on the library wall
I remember when you made it, I was very small
And I remember berating
The time it was taking
For a picture of a painting

But this place meant a lot to you
And I'm just passing through