Those Coincidences

Benjamin Jenkins, poem, poems, poetry, writing

Pack a bowl

Toss two green tea bags

Into my Lee Est. 1763 mug

Set the scorching kettle

Onto the rug

Iron out the wrinkles.

 

Am I

A permanent refuge?

Are you

A permanent refugee?

 

At the gym

Watching the built-in elliptical television

Chicago vs. Nets live feed

Garnett slaps his head

The teleprompter reads:

Look at all that sweat!

Half a second after

The Yeah Yeah Yeahs

sing about sweat into my ear

It takes my conscious reflections

To bring them together

It’s brazen to overlook dimensions.

 

Am I

A permanent refuge?

Are you

A permanent refugee?

 

I think about you

The next day

Someone’s lips drop

Your name, so my question:

Are we engines of thought

Or driven to cast into a vast ocean?

 

Am I

A permanent refuge?

Are you

A permanent refugee?

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