I keep trying to
wrapeverythingup
neat-like
~with a bow~
knowin’ the variables
and all 3 w’s
for
t,
t,
‘n
t
–today, tomorrow, an’ then
like I know my own name,
but I can’t and what
can you
wrap up, really…
besides burritos,
peasant skirts,
and plastic…
–an ace bandage only braces
a sprain,
and has to be removed
and wrapping up remains
for that time
time is truly over,
and even gift wrap
–with its trappings
of
mind,
material,
&
imagination
~complete with elusive bow~
is destined for the shredder.
So, maybe its okay that everything is just…
there.
Unaccounted for,
unorganized,
unplanned,
and unbowed
–there.
a rap song
in the background…
unwritten,
but known.
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