Small movements while sorting absent thought
Surrealist painting hanging over the bedframe
Remaining warm with past subscriptions of the Dial
Shunning the past, but somehow still the same
I cannot make myself extroverted
I’ve never been a joiner; not very verbose
An overactive imagination & searching mind
Yet, outwardly I appear sullen & morose
I’m trying to crawl out of my own way
I’ve been a misogynist & a cynic; it’s all in the file
Shedding the weight of pessimistic sin
Yet some days I still wear a curmudgeon’s smile
Captain Q 