Hot and cramped,
stuck with a
squeaky leather
jacket and a
wobbly table
under the weight
of a husky
and haughty brute.
He proves more
capable than
anyone could
imagine that day.
I stare at the
lines on the page,
wondering how
this word
could not
possibly mean
what I thought
it did.
My neck cranes
under the
weight of
the bronze chain,
better than
most this day,
but not
better than
myself.
Composed 04/03/14
Author’s Note: Sometimes, we are our harshest critics.
Two Second Street 