Caught Up Going In

I keep my pockets full of fingers

when I’m walking down the street

and my eyes…

they drag along the sidewalk

like there were hidden arrows

pointing me along.

My direction grows like a fungus

that’s ticklish to the touch

the way candy wrappers unfolding

arouse our taste buds.

these open hours collapsed in on themselves

until the stars that cant be seen in cities

explode like a playground

where the noise distracts us from our age

and for that one moment walking past

we lose our tired faces

and remember longer days.

About Sean O'Gorman

Spoken Word poet from Ottawa. View all posts by Sean O'Gorman

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