spinning fibers

Strands are spun
Tangled and sticky
I can't see past the
Grotesque and clingy fibers
That never quite leave
The fabric of my new black jeans

Men lurch themselves away
From the bar
Splashing beer on to the next
So it goes
The domino effect
Elsewhere people are repeating
Units of conversation
Spouting white strings
Of their doings for a living and
Where they are from

And so,
In the final hour of potentiality
We congregate and spin
Trying to avoid
Fragmenting too much of ourselves.

**