Sandwiches

Life less than slow motion, moving as fast as it’s pushed.
A sedentary Atlas has fallen
Under his globe.
A world behind a door that opens inwards,
But the doorstop’s wedged tight.
Thick jam blood moves through these walls.
Crooked picture frames, shelves of ornaments.
Shirt buttons.
Cups of tea swirling.
Thick jam blood moving slowly.

Posted via email from Mike's posterous