2008-05-23 - 11:52 p.m.

The Tippingest of Points

As I tip to the border
(and look back to see you)
I wonder if you're my shadow
Or simply obscured by it

I use these substitutions
Despite the menu's rule
And I try not to forget
The smell of many tendrils

I wish you were at the corner table
Anticipating the next step with all of us
Jumping in the back seat
Having your toll paid for you

I try to avoid lyrics
Because I know how that feels
When used too tightly to examine
A lighter held aloft during the encore

The train passes in the other direction
And it appears faster than reality
But as long as we share a car
I don't see the problem with frivolity

We fall on the steps
No matter the temperature
And I want you there
When I square it all up

����� ����It's been real,

������������Harrison B. Harding of Camp Crowder, Mo.

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