Why Aren’t You Running?
(Poetry) You're downwind of your dreams. If I give you just one idea you could reach the clouds, pull them down, and drink.
Why Aren’t You Running?
Why aren’t you running? You’re wearing sneakers, the orange laces are tied up so tight and I can see you’re a breath away from blowing it—off/up/down? So, why aren't you running? You're downwind of your dreams. If I give you just one idea you could reach the clouds, pull them down, and drink! You'll be light as flight, weathered as a feather— Get it together. The Man says what you’re supposed to want is halfway to where you’re supposed to be. So why aren’t you running there? I’m supposed to let you know, that’s what they told me. I’m supposed to tell on you when you stop.
More Poetry by Annie Hendrix:
That Car Has No Driver
That car has no driver, it has a wreath of lasers on the roof and there is no longer room to forget where the coffee has gone, no space to imagine how the hot drink flew and splattered on the concrete. That car has no eyes, but it stopped as I waited on the corner and I bowed my head to an empty seat—
I Am the War
I breathe in and the air is still; my last drag hangs like a flag unfurled, peaks and valleys on the wind. I breathe out and the birds scatter, fly in tandem with the jets across the sky, my blood-hot cheeks as if it were summertime though dry autumn leaves already mass beneath the trees. …
I Walk by Candlelight
I walk foggy down the dusty street, squinting past my sunglasses. The wind is almost strong enough to keep me from admiring the dandelions. I ask the internet for advice, and am greeted with an ocean of the world selling …
I like the language, I think I get the gist, but I'm still mulling as I comment. Downwind of your dreams... that's one I wished I'd written. Like your singing voice too.
Excellent work!