Mr. Non-Feasability-Report

Mr. Non-Feasibility Report smirks so smugly.
His “never-any-intention-of” dangles
Just there out of reach.
He stretches out tonight
On his bed without a worry,
Forehead as hard as a cornerstone,
Eyes in a quiet clench.
He folds his knuckles together
And twiddles his widdle thumb-kins,
First to progress the play-by-play,
Then, to reel it back in.
But, he knows it's nothing to write home about—
The fragments of shattered idealism
Still clutter, withdrawn and fractal,
Disregarded by the closed grid of his mind,
And dismissed by his coconut head.

 

-jenn long