The elbowroom

The elbowroom

I am fixing a poem and I’ll drop myself to you

I said it quickly and as clear as raindrops were
Somehow bewildered by his weekly phone call
Then I interrupted my barley-sugar habit
Below TV sets of the high neighborhood
To ask both my elbows in a morbid mood
If windy the personal data do their own kit
If the wind partakes of change and message
As I signed this weekend by filling two forms
I applied for two different jobs but I felt the same
Once and for all common the problem inhabited memory
Now my confidence box was found locked in the armory
To fill all the job request forms I had to recall the past
I had to retake all my previous steps further one by one
And the fixing of one brand-new story again
About my curriculum vitae brought the rain
In the eyes which wanted to resist that exquisite corpse
I was still alive and the elbows could do greater things
Than taking me for a tour online in dinghies
Certainly there were better things to be showered with
Than messages of chain bistros and new reduced prices
Certainly I was waiting for something else to see
After I put the last keyword and locked the poem
I had the mobile next to me but in vain
Your not giving a call caused me pain
In the meanwhile it was harder to stand up
To both the elbowroom and its core meaning
Maybe the bow bore the elbow
Maybe the ship bore the relationship
And so maybe the sense bore the absence
There is the problem, where the poem lies