I write dumb essays, poems, and stories. I post them here.

Monday

Growing Weeds With Breakneck Speed

I don't think about it at all anymore 
not even now 
it's just that while checking 
random inventory recently I noticed 
weeds growing through the cracks in
the memories
both the bad ones and the good
soon they will be all crumbled 
pushed apart and mixed together 
the rubble of a vacant lot
or a stretch of road not travelled
anymore  

that's good because 
there's something about knowing when 
you have arrived at a place to which 
you have been trying to get
since those sodden memories 
were new. 

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