This wobbly world
host to insects and lint
and a thousand pithy ways
to feel unserious each minute

It brings about
a great softening of the mind, like
the clouded edges of sea glass (this
filter you could download and apply)

A poultice or an opiate,
rigidly individual. Alone
and erasing sentences to splinters.

(Poem No. 5)

Erin J. Watson

Tag: life poetry world mind insects poems

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