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I’m tripping over my feet
My thoughts
My tongue is stuck to
The roof of my mind
I walk forwards when I
Should walk backwards
I feel like I was shipped
Here in a baliktad box
My boarding pass is a
Tongue stamped with
Words that I don’t know
And my tongue is a
A slag of mud
The voices sing over
My head and my thoughts
Trip over my words
Trip over my feet
And there is no rate
Of exchange for the words
I cannot give or the heart
I give freely yet skips
Over it’s own beat and
Rhythm in amplitudes of
Waves unmeasured
I am tripping over my feet
As I watch my people walk
Softly upon the earth
I follow them in the
Airport in Manila
With my
Eyes
As my feet
Try to find
The words
I keep tripping
Over
(C) 2017 Tony Robles.
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