Life With Horace

poetry & essays


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scattershot season

like random bursts of color
or drought licked leaves
my transformation waltzes slowly
through the thickets of impatience
skirting good intentions
wanting every item on my
inner laundry list of psychic tweaks
checked off in double time
to quit the job of Tantalus’ understudy
reaching for the ease I see in others
never tongue tied in the light
of those whose minds and gifts
can freeze me in my tracks
as adolescent echoes chase me down
my blurted words so many zombie zits,
I crave deliverance from this dread
to stamp distortion into weightlessness
and see it float away, swept on by
migrant wings that set me flying too