Practiced. Patience. I was waiting on the paper.
See what it said.
Not said, but read.
Black and white, little tiny lines.
Old mug of crunch, I was opening the paper.
Pages of dead.
Not dead, but left.
Rainbow, white, silver, soggy shrine.
Who ever made sense of time?
Come down. Hello. Hi.
All the things I thought I’d find
Where the ocean touches the sky.
And the paper wasn’t coming.
Waiting, like worry.
And the paper didn’t slow down.
He writes so hard, like he’s fighting with the paper.
‘Forget’. They said.
Not said, but meant.
One big bite. Colors float on white.
Waiting on a clown, like waiting on the paper.
Circus time spent,
Ring leader trends.
Makeup fights, colors smothered white.
Comedown. Hello. Hi.
All the things he thought he’d find
Where the ocean touches the sky.
Where window’s always open
And the water’s always nice.
this is your life chuck johnson 