POEM: Dec-Jan

It has been three days and I
     can’t remember the steps.

December 30: write a list of
the things you want to do
in 2019
a thousand paths and no direction
the sun is stationary in the sky

It has been three days
The pools of water have dried and the ground
                           has cracked
My feet are cracked
The lines of my palm pucker
  too much tension
                     at the seam
hyperthermic time withers in
the bleaching
                of summer
There are no icebergs in this dry sea.
Each breath returns wasted
how hard it is just
       to keep my head above
     the dirt.

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