Crowded / Feet

Monday, May 26, 2008

Crowded
The air here is stiff.
It's hard to move.
You can't turn a corner
without bumping into yourself.
Try to struggle through
the crowd of one,
without ever seeing the way out.
No light at the end of the tunnel.
No stop sign.
No detour.
Just an endless sea,
this crowd of one.

Feet
Feet too small to support gravity.
What joke are we playing?
Bodies too skinny to withstand time.
What time should we take?
None.
Gravity has already caused
these creatures to echo down the halls,
with eratic steps.
Time has worn down
what all else cannot.
What is there left?
Over-sized heads,
dragging on the ground.