living backwards

my brain. breaded and deep-fried.

there’s a glove.
above.
my head.
it is hanging from a wire that is attached to an eyesore -
the telephone pole should be
under
ground.
i found -
a scratch on my car. not Far
from the hole.
in the wall.
the stars come out at midnite.

I draw to kill time, avoiding academic responsibilities. The creation of chaos provides peace. Personalities generate through my slipping pen. The power of the eraser. Wiping and swiping without a pang of guilt. A peaceful presence. City girl in a country world. Two worlds collide and I feel good.