Happened is passive.
So were the plates,
They didn’t stop me or
so much as scowl.
I act in
and imaginary waves.
But there are still strong verbs to be had,
boots shone by star lint
and the click of rhythm caught in contradictions.
I’d like to say I don’t
concentrate on the past
but I have a thick cream folder of
every look you’ve given me this month.
(the title was a prompt from a while ago from the lit mag Right Hand Pointing)