LOST SOCK

LOST SOCK

lost sock
damp sponge
wet
   blanket

cold
fish

I see your name up
in lights however
straining my eyes
to read
the letters
from my worm’s eye
view so close to the ground

your
    vapid theme

unless I am
missing something, actually,
missing
             everything

the meaning of a poem
still escaping me
                   still seeming
like something
magically
     conjured out
              of thin air

cannot imagine how
hard I would lose, how
shown up
I would feel going
      one on one, head
to
  head with you

seriously needing
     to improve my game

pump up
my action not

to feel so steamrollered
when your next
exquisite
      petite volume
voluminously appears

lost sock
damp sponge

      even if I should win
no achievement here

ROLL

ROLL

rolled my eyes
during your poetry reading

tried my best
but could not help myself

kept thinking of
a ballroom waltz but
the dancers on
rollerskates

with the skates themselves rusted
and long strangers
to oil

as a whole, not the rock
and roll linguistic gig
I had been
    anticipating

as a whole, the sum of each line
as a part
        considerably less
than a hole