the parking situation

the season’s gone
but everyone’s got

the green field
in their vision

I looked all over
for tomorrow

tomorrow
for thursday

for the weekend
almost tipped

the table
the dogmatic grid

ran through
my head

that was
forever ago we

made turns
came upon

a chain
to have been any old

solitary bird
then

tilt your head
this way

I do not wish
to be lost