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Private Notes
Private Notes
Notes
some days I grow bored
up here on this throne
the clouds cease to entertain
the people have little to offer
even the birds
the sun
the crooked river
do nothing to take my breath
the city streets
and highways twist
in uninteresting ways
they move on
I move on
we acknowledge each other with feigned interest
and a yawn
but I promise you
the boredom will pass
so order some takeout
read the comics
or the news or a cereal box
write a poem
revive a memory
but be patient
and wait for the skies to open up
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