Page 27

Greetings

My hands are trapped like leaky rooftops in the rain.

The only difference is the amount of pressure we’re holding up.

I have the weight of the world on my shoulders

And it’s only getting bigger from here.

I wish the seas would stop rustling in between my fingertips

It’s numbing my nerves and I can’t keep a grip much longer.

The earth’s soil is crusting underneath my nails and

I just want to pound them into someone else’s palms for a change.

 The grasses are growing a mile high and wrapping their blades

Too sharply

Around the base of my wrist.

I find it difficult to bend my knuckles now

So I can’t even flip the bird

To the birds now perched atop my forearms.

I wonder what they’re laughing at, anyway?

Tweet your harmonious tweet, then.

 We’ll see how funny it is to be stripped bare,

Battered,

And deep fried.