sentiment once
engaged four–or was that six
a practiced backhand
in this pandemic of social tennis

walk on the edges of my extremities
a mouth-breather in
the rubber rooms of your
shadow

self

timid note-taking turns

recently buying table scraps
ensures a bite to eat
a ride on the yellow rocketship
outside the grocery

public satisfactory seconds

waiting for the keys

the reflection of judgment
dismissed like yesterday’s Times

tenderness in
alligator armor

© Tom Watters  12/5/07