Harpsichord

Sauce left on a baking tray,
left out from the other day
stiff and likely tasteless
like my mind.

I wish there was another way
to fix things like a light bulb
always flickering so loosely
in its socket.

Things aren’t always easy though
and when you can’t forget
all that you know
you distract yourself
with everything that’s brighter.

A statue of George Washington,
at the center of a courtyard
made of brick, holds a curved sword
over his head; like that blade
could do anything against the volleys
of heavy artillery directly ahead.

I guess we like our lone wolves
to be fictional as statues without questions
posed in quotations on their metal plaques
that no one’s ever read before
on purpose.

No one finishes their water bottles
they just sit around all day,
until the woman shows up
quietly arranging them
so musically they can be played
just like a harpsichord
creating atmosphere
I cannot here
with words.

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