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.