silent clear-way hours

exhaust my way
in Bukowski
digging
elbows on knees and head
in hands, i drift
with a sullen tempo

my daughter will tell you why, with her eyes
that it matters
that you answer correctly;
should we celebrate the bread
or the jam?

forget language
and take some time to consider, instead
how you feel about the words
just the words
now,
underline it for future ref(lect)erence

these
were silent clear-way hours
well spent
sitting slouched, in prickly heat
with my four fruits
jam, and bread

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