June 28, 2020
my heart hasn’t ironed out the details
the ducks are playing
enough games, flukes and hooded wolves
I’m slowly filling the chip on my shoulder with whatever sticks;
gum, dirt, refuse and wood glue
One day I’ll smooth over my edges
I don’t punch mirrors anymore
my eyes drool without care
It’s fun to let the wind lead the dance
my feet just go, one after another
I try not to question their eagerness
Craig Hard is a filmmaker and multi-media artist based now in Chicago.
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