Promises made with no intention of being kept
Are the default, the way a robin stands in
For bird, the way their red breast stands in
For cheer and nature in manageable measures,
The way you know when I say I can’t help
You if you don’t want to be helped, I mean
I’m out, even if I forgo brushing my palms against
Each other, slapping The End on the screen
And letting it sit there before it goes dark
And the lights come up. We made a deal means
I think you broke it, the way day breaks the night,
The last stars witnesses who won’t speak up
On anyone’s behalf.
Robins, by default, are searching
For worms, who are doing their level best to stay
Hidden, riddling the earth into rut, into a welcome lust;
Worms, by default, ruin our appetites with one bite,
Though they have enough hearts left to live on,
I can’t promise you anything but that.
It’s not much to go on.
To go on.
Go on.