bittersweet sixteen
sitting
at my desk
i gaze
out the window
divorced
from lessons
..unteachable
behind the eyes,
still hopping
on the good leg
which is bad
along the curb
of desolation
my last splint
slightly rotten
from old mist
keeps me upright
another half hour
shimmy
your memory
over here
bring a little class..
to class
my most unlikely
counterpart
where two
could equal one
defying this logic
arithmetic
of trust
calculus
of desire
matrices
of,
well more
teach me
til i know
what i don't
(c) Dot Allison 2005. All rights reserved.
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