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For Real, You Look Real Nice

I reached for a half empty
warm beer
and knocked a roll of toilet paper
from the top of the television
it rolled away from me
and into the hallway
past the bathroom
and leaving a path
of pure and random division
for no reason, i thought
until
coming to a halt
at the foot of my bed

Things like this always happen to me
A coin rolls under the dresser
A cigarette lighter falls into the drain
I study the scroll laid out before me
leading to my bed
Where are the words
that tell of my destiny?
That breathe life into the
living and the dead there are
no predictions or obituaries
on this paper
on this
paper there is only a blank
speculation
about today
right now and this moment
this document
is not ancient
nor is it a document at all
it serves no purpose and offers no wisdom
and right now it is rolled out
giving me nothing
but this poem

poem by Jeffrey Quattlebaum
Added by Poetry Lover
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