Author Information
digital clock
Folder:
Poems 2010 She ran yesterday
at high noon when an egg cracked on a sidewalk would reek
of overcooked ideals and insufficient media coverage screaming
“GET OUT!”
as the clock loses its hands for stealing
the rights to memories we would have had the chance to hold tightly to out chests
as we crossed that wall separating right from left-
brained stereotypes we were taught as children still follow me to lap at my ankles.
They are still surprised I am right handed and left winged,
but what can I say?
I prefer to take an even stance.
