tim kidwell

Fault

Fault

We glide into the room to sit
In high-backed chairs and slide the plate
Across a line. We shift a bit

To face our food, lurch, hesitate,
Suspended at a table where
Fixed, unconvenable we wait.

Inseparable, this weight we bear
Yet stubbornly we subdivide,
Recalculate the other’s share

Tim Kidwell

Tim Kidwell lives in St. Louis where he works as a writer, actor and airline customer service agent. His poetry has appeared in Big Muggy and Eads Bridge and his article, “At the End of the Day,” appeared last summer in the Wall Street Journal.

Syndicate content