Hanging Out

Sure, you could say, we’re holding up the world;

We’re pushing back the light, our shades perched just so.

You and I against the glass that could reflect

Our image back to ourselves, but, no,



We’ve had enough of that feedback loop.

Whatever artificial light we’ve found

In the past cast us out here on the other side.

I’ve got my purse, we’ll take the first bus outbound.



Where we’re going is a mystery.

Where we’ve been was a mistake.

But where are we now?

My shoulders are beginning to ache.



I’m not sure how to straighten up. My curved

Back has found its equilibrium

Against the world we know. We stand together

But can no longer see beyond the delirium



Of the present. Soon this too will be

A memory and maybe we’ll find a way

To laugh, our absurd reality

Catching us off guard yet again that day.