away

there are swans all around me 

but they are blind 

or i am invisible 

and i don't know which

i once found myself at a crossroads

i searched within myself

and like they love to say

i took the road less traveled

now i am at the end of the road

the more of me i see, the less of me i want to be. i feel empty and dreaded and dead inside;

i’m a horn atop a pig’s head;

i still remember dogwood, sitting under my porch;