In earnest the Seahorse dictates left and right

A Poem by Soil Creep

A poem

White
blankets,
shades      the calm lock, the calm lock,
the calm locks fingers into symbols, into traffic.
   Traffic backs down to modest cretins
m t
o h
v r
i o              the resist, the laydown, and the smile of the crooked parlor tattoo
n u                  on top of the disheveled storage space, this being the one time
g g              you have to think
h

              mud thoughts and tired confusion.
Two people sit down at a table across the way and you think to yourself about what the sky would say in your position