The Common Era

If it's all in my head

here's hoping it stays in there

No I'm not tired

it's the look I was born to wear

A little surprised

a little beyond repair

I take a turn

sweet inertia of going somewhere

Car chase on the screen

Could swear that it moves the air

My miniature friends

make me feel I belong in there

Blown out sky at the beach today

White on white

it all looks the same

Glance down at my hands

to give me something to name