eviction notice

poetry

you don’t know what you want
but you know what you don’t
you don’t much want to hurt
but are not sure that you wont
you don’t know what to keep
’till it all gets too old
you can’t make up your mind
you don’t have the mold
nor do you have the receipt
or know where they’re sold
you don’t know what you want
so you don’t know what to hold
to keep out of the snow
so it won’t die in the cold
you can’t navigate this maze
so you don’t know where to go
and this is all in your head
and your head is your home
and this is all
and your head
and this
and your
and
and
where’d you get that gun
that the bullets shoot so slow?

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