drowning on land

i used to think life was a blank page
stretched out before me,
waiting for me to write
the shape of my life.

i couldn't wait
to see how it would look,
what would appear
in angles
with the light off and all that.

sifting through piles of paper,
i look for the back of a scrap
that hasn't been covered
with my wayward scribble,
with loops and swirls
of black and blue.

they're all the same,
these inward mandates.
run clean room
10th st @ 6th ave
bank dentist
contact solution
detergent.