---

 

This writing was accepted for publication in the 108 page perfect-bound ISSN# / ISBN# issue/book “Desert Bloom” Down in the Dirt, v185 (the July 2021 Issue) Order the paperback book:

Order this writing that appears in the one-of-a-kind anthology Lockdown’s Over the Down in the Dirt May-August 2021 issues collection book		get the 420 page May-August 2021 Down in the Dirt 6" x 9" ISBN# perfect-bound paperback book:

i am not unlike the lionfish

S.M. Moore

I am alone,
and I do what I do for me.

I play on train tracks and in parking lots.
I light lighters and flick them.
I see the flame come to life in my hand,
and I light my pipe and I smoke it.

I stare into the clouds looking to make meaning of them but I do not,
and I do not mind that.

I see birds and caterpillars moving slowly,
and I paint my toenails all kinds of colors.

I walk around the streets kicking rocks and cans and all else you can imagine.

I browse bookshelves that are not mine for texts,
and I drink coffee that is harsh and bitter.
I color my hair.
I cross my eyes,
and I drive along the beaches.

I listen to music.
I am silent sometimes.
I talk to myself.
I talk to my dog,
and I think about things in my head that are just for me.

In the night I see the late workers beginning their day,
and I pass them in the car and I wave.
Everybody needs somebody to say hello to.

I stop at the lights though nobody is watching,
and I look at the neon illuminating the shops that people are in with their lovers,
and I am reminded:
I am alone, but I am not lonely.

I like to get the mail when I know it has already been gotten.
I sometimes skip lunch.
I never drink milk.
I talk to nobody for days.
I wear the same clothes.
I never wash my hair.

But I do cartwheels.
I lay on the floor and eat toast for dinner.
I take long showers.
I read old newspapers.
I tread lightly.
I tread heavily.
I let my beard grow long.
I shave it,
only to allow it to grow again.

I try not to use contractions.
I try to avoid stepping on cracks.
I try to only touch things with my left hand.
I try to hold my breath for two minutes.
I climb trees and I see squirrels chasing one another and in that moment I am reminded:
I am alone,
but I am not lonely.

Copyright of written pieces remain with the author, who has allowed it to be shown through Scars Publications and Design.Web site © Scars Publications and Design. All rights reserved. No material may be reprinted without express permission from the author.

Problems with this page? Then deal with it...