You breathe a lot easier
After you come that close
To inhalation and survive,
Knowing that for eight
Or more hours
You’ve walked around
Strapped to a backpack
Of nitro glyserin
And that any false move
Any odd word
Even a mistaken glance
Might set it off
And scattered
All your organs
So that all the king’s men
And all the king’s horses
Won’t get you back
Together again
After that,
A few cracks
In the old egg shell
Don’t seem
Too bad
No comments:
Post a Comment