• Vol. 04
  • Chapter 07

You Saw Me Seeing

What brief contemplation
a quick hand
a brief view, the eye

refuses to train on one aspect
of the ruse

busy, busy eye

My graffiti language is on the wall
hiding behind the chair

It's hard to isolate
just one piece of word

Some day a wipe will come
bringing freedom
to all this mess

by then I will be seated
having tea.