Kiko Testo

Yesterday I wrote everything I know down in a notebook
as a person of the past
for future hands to flip through
while scraping all the dirt from my incisors
paying more attention to the fine details of the here and the now
than anyone who's actually here now

and one hundred and three words
is not enough to get me over that chasm
(that chasm, it's keeping here from there) if I can't fold 'em over I want to smash 'em together

Scurrying around like the ant I am
viewed through the window of the first class seat
you undoubtedly lucked into
All that extra elbow room is being made poor use of by
the boardroom bombshell sitting right next to you,
while counting the weeks till the future comes.

and one hundred and three words
is not enough to get me over that chasm
(that chasm, it's keeping here from there)
if I can't fold 'em over I want to smash 'em together till they're just dirt