Invisible Confession

by Jack Albert

The heart of my daily routine
is that I have no daily routine

and there lies the matter at hand
smacking me around 

in my brain till it wobbles
and some of the time

I walk another way
wiggling

backwards in the moment
doing whatever I may have been feeling

lifetimes ago
(or was it a dream)

shoving aside nothing in particular
changing in midstream

dusting up my part
with no purpose whatsoever

not a trace of a chance
to be seen