#1674 - some people

1674

5.213

1.viii.24

some people

 

are in their heads

 

nor outwardly

 

you wouldn’t know

 

some are deep

way past

 

some heads have that hunted look

trail off, over baubled

 

things of other ages crowd

 

just there

you could try to knock

 

the ache is often in the head

though sometimes neck and shoulders

 

there are some

breeze in the treetops

bright windows

 

in some there’s not a soul

 

it’s often a very fine line

 

some heads are their own carnival

some heads are just bung

 

then there’s get on with

 

others are over

some go down

 

some heads nod along

or bob

or weave and duck

 

do the scaffold roll off

or head-in-a basket

fast cannibal’s tea

 

day comes up like a lottery

you might follow along

 

are we forgetting the freshly washed?

 

the crisp head spun

 

the dear departed, heading off

 

there’s no sky for this sun

 

words fail to find what’s here