Notes from the Corner, No. 28-30

And when I think I will
but don't
the silence emphasizes
that this was never
what I wanted

ice cubed
aesthetic
wandering lonely
like a clown
half dressed

in the end
the love you take
was all yours anyway
although you had me
wondering

jumbled keys

A small pile of keys
next to my keyboard

sometimes it's all one has to show
for a week's work

I show it to you now
after a night of reading
about syd barrett
and listening to miles of music

if all of this has a purpose
it's, well, hidden

in the end
it's just a small pile of keys