I couldn't have planned on
Ending up here old
Park bench on the Asylum's
Empty grounds.

I am being yelled at by
This squirrel.
I am trying to freak myself out
Of the usual thoughts
And things;

On the correct side of
Corrections services fences
I move about by blue bike
And forget everything even
Handwriting, forgotten.


If ashen sky shifts at all
I don't know it
I am probably sitting between
Two arguments
And missing both