Me
And so there I was
in a house, but it wasn't a house
it was a shop, but not any old shop
it was my house and I ran
but I didn't run like me I ran
like a dog but I wasn't a dog I was me
but I ran on all fours
but as I ran I clawed at the path
grabbing great pleats of path
and tried to drag it under me
but what was in front of me
stayed there and wouldn't end up
behind me and so I ran but didn't run
through my house that was a shop
with a path inside but I was outside
my house that wasn't my house
gaining no ground at all.
Friend
(Looking up from his phone)
Weird. I don't remember mine.
Same again? My round.
May,2018
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Running in my dreams but not getting anywhere, just clawing up the path. Wonder what that means. Not that anyone cares, which is the point of the poem. I'm glad the editorial staff at Popshot enjoyed it.