normal curve

he shoots the pathetic looks
as if by some stroke of luck
they might offer him the means
to blaze straight to the center
of that normal curve

he takes pity where he can
as though by doing so
he might drag himself to cure
the margin of error
he never quite deserved

he chips away bit by bit
the mean universal
he holds his breath,
the mode of conversation
still stifles it

the gentle cascade
trickles down the slope,
but that far down the road
so little is left
it's hard to tell

and in his infinite regression
he'll center himself for one moment
and find that place
to be as lonely
as the last