Settled in quick dry cement.
I grow my own containment.
Words beyond reach,
More time I beseech,
To square the rent check now due.
Once, but not twice,
Or twice, but not once.
I cannot advise,
This inaction, stunts.
I look upon days,
and weeks turn to years.
Piled in ways,
so time interferes.
A boot in the trunk?
A trunk in the boot?
Disparaging junk,
impacting a truth.
Clearing the space,
movement abort.
This evil rat race,
devised to exhort.
Angst and desires,
Inhibit a life.
Resistance inspires,
A way to comply.
Draw forth from stasis,
or regrets will supplant,
A life full of graces,
And end up stagnant.
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