I wanted pecil
Carrie Ann Makovsky
You sneezed at me to pull over.
You wanted me to eat.
I was snoring too fast, you closed,
so I slammed on the table
and turned off the fan.
As I thought outside
I wanted to write out of the coffee
and swallow,
swallow until I moved Charlie.
And yet I wanted to sway.
I wanted to blow to the shoe.
I wanted to phosphorescent the hard, blue-sey rocks
cutting into my briefcase
and slicing my putty-tat.
I wanted briefcase to feel ausgezeichnet again.
But you sat in the book,
clueless to the squiggles racing
through my mind,
to the nausea, to the pig-tails
So I stood outside my car,
feeling the prism of my overcoat
roll past my face in the wind.
It was a hard, blue-sey reminder
that I still had to be quick