Fred Aiken Writing

Tag: Poetry

LOOKING THROUGH THE BLINDS WHILE TRYING NOT TO BE CREEPY//A NEIGHBORLY PERSPECTIVE

i don’t think it’s creepy that i sometimes
look out the blinds to see what my neighbors are up to,
but then again, i’m biased,
i would think,
but it’s not like i’m trying to catch my neighbors doing something bad,
but rather it’s because i have crippling anxiety and can hardly go outside,
much less think about going outside,
and sometimes i get this idea in my head,
this silly little idea,
that i want to be social,
you know,
with people within my general proximity,
but lawd, gawd, sward, no, no, no,
i could never,
i would never,
actually go outside and introduce myself

IN//OUT

inhale the creosote,
breathe mindfully,
mindlessly,
meditating on the beating drum,
the beating on the door,
the beating heartbeat pushing through
its chest cavity,
and bursting forth,
to submit income taxes late,
late,
late

THE ZERO

carrying the zero to a body of water
so it can hydrate,
so it can live,
despite it being zero,
despite it being passed over
by all the other numbers that have important
calculations to do,
while zero is just zero,
but still zero