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Skin Of My Teeth
closing in on the end
of one more sunday
thinking that tomorrow
i still won't recall
what i did last monday
last week
that i'm promising myself
that i'm still looking
for looking and hunting
those who are hungry
but struggle through sleep
and dreams get between
commerce and creativity
so i decide to keep the hunt on
out-foxed and still weak
too tired to apply
and can't find that just right
blink hard away
my blurred sight
dry mouth and a jaw aching
from the self-imposed grind
and from getting by another time
by the skin of my teeth
(november 22,2010, new orleans, la, usa)
poem
by
Thomas Quentin Sims
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