Printed People
whatever food is in the fridge
I want no more distraction
From the bones of my life
I want no more ambition
Or awareness of the world on the other side
I want homemade coffee
And whatever food is in the fridge
I want to exist slowly
Like a morning glory vine on a stone bridge
I want unexplained solitude
Like the woman in a small-town mystery
I will look for the answers on train tracks
And between the riverbed trees
I want a rainy house
Tin gutters and a garden hose
And you could shut me like a book
When you tire of my prose
Not a single cultural reference
Like timeless art and grocery store books
Keep it true and focused
Like the printed people do
About the Creator
Eve Luxembourg
Currently taking life far too seriously. I wish I read more than I wrote, yet here we are. I am incredibly cyclical and I like to write down my mind before it shifts.
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