Rhythmic Apperception
       

I lose my coffee mug somewhere in the house
on purpose
so that I have something to do

a reason to wander from room to room

looking at all the books on the shelves
& the walls I didn't paint.
They are a color I didn't agree to

but now live with.
Every window is open at the same time

& I'm not afraid. I flip the pages
of my yellow legal pad to see if there are any phrases
I forgot to use somewhere, to put them in meaningful

context, because accumulation is the only thing I trust.
I smash my face into the glass of your face
until nothing is left of either of us.

Early each morning, the rieighbor dog barks
& wakes me up & I wish it would stop.
I'm finding it impossible to imagine anything

other than what is.
My personal life often takes over
& makes it tough to get any work done

or make dinner at a decent hour.

I type a lot of words into a Word document
to make myself feel better

but I'm just transferring impressions
between media
& there's no thought involved

& the dishes are piled in the sink for no good reason.
Later, I'm almost asleep. You begin to barely

touch spots on my back
that I can 't predict or look forward to
                                              or even remember. You are not me

                          but you have let me get so close
that sometimes I forget.

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Copyright © 2017 Nate Pritts All rights reserved
from Decoherence
42 Miles Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission