find like matryoshka

dolls layers of being

each one smaller yet

more concentrated

&

on the football field

when i carried you

drunk on my back

in the summer midnight

&

how i paw at the lip

of an unopened jar

with the feeble torque

of a man in crisis

&

when you ask me

what i’ve been up to

i can’t remember

because it’s nothing

&

the restless nature of

two legs in atrophy

jcb