Running Late (UNFINISHED)

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RUNNING LATE



Where you find the thing you were 

looking for is, more often than not, 


the first place you looked. Look,

we’ve all rodeo-clowned around 


for our keys, tore up the house, 

asked a spouse before flirting

 

with despair, only to sheepishly admit

we found them there in the pocket 


of our blue jeans, the very pair 

we patted down those thirty minutes back. 


Or thirty years, or eighty, in fact,  

if you’ve got the genes. What I mean is, 


you can look all your life for what 

you’ve always carried with you, 


and some of us have to, peeling

each surface back like a scab


till 

 

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