tuesday mulling.

there is dust today
gathers under the fingernails
with the dead skin
i've been scratching
off my forearm all day

i stumble upon
a poem by kevin young
and all at once
i am inspired
like i was watching
the beggar
with deformed feet
beg for help
with a sign written on notebook paper
in blue ink too hard to read
in the sunlight

i stand there and cry
but i do not help him
it isn't money he needs
i do not have what he needs

i should not use apostrophe
when trying to capture emotion
on a jagged line

the monotony is suffocating
it is what i asked for
it is?

i want to leave dc
i want to leave.
now.