Going Nowhere


Do you approach me now

To assign a destination

To the topography

Of my inhospitable flesh?

I have traveled for miles

Down ravaged gangways

Unaccustomed to the brevity,

The shark eyed infrastructure

The transparent hunger

In eyes that never suspend

Their purpose for long.


I labor over my identity

As if it were applied

A clumsy wooden frame

That holds more charm,

More beauty than the occupant

Can woefully prescribe

I could look at that frame

All day but the portrait

Does not resemble me.


How strange it is to start

But never to cross

A single boundary

Even with the gun waving

Before my estranged eyes.

The threat, the authority

Perhaps it is why

I only run in place.


I am not alone,

There are others faster than I

Sweating for both

Effort and effect

Wearing their pink soles

Blue but going nowhere.


More of my crummy photography. This is me I am wearing hubbies’ jacket which is too big on top of a large skirt that is why I look so lumpy lol


10 responses to “Going Nowhere

  1. I think your photo matches your wonderful writing, always conveys such depth with a hint of mystery. I must confess, sometimes it goes beyond my comprehension.

    • Awww thank you Hector. I don’t always understand everything I read either, sometimes I come back later and it clicks into place (sometimes it takes years for the aha) but whatever personal meaning your derive is more important than any literal translation

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