thought i was tired
smoking my last cigarette
in a city
not my own
watching another pack of stray dogs stroll stridently
tongues hanging loose
without a care
wonder what they’re thinking.
little bubble pops in my head
i wish i was a four-legged nomad
nonchalantly trotting along
with my gypsy canine counterparts
i’m not.
more like driftwood
always have been –
floating along
going where the tide takes me.
damn near burn my fingertips
on a bad habit
that does nothing to quell anxiety
night is done
alone
at sea
i will crash upon a shore
maybe
someone will snatch me up
carve me
into something useful
maybe even
beautiful
doubtful.
But Otherwise Fine 