can’t keep these eyes
from folding up stakes.
they don’t wanna work
anymore than i do.

ain’t much in the
way of time-lag;
just down the downs,
the deed is done.
fight as hard and
as long as you see fit;
it won’t matter;
you’ll lose.

for those of us
looking for a way out
of an overly
micromanaged existence,
it’s as easy as
mixing the correct
in the correct order.
the amounts involved
matter somewhat less;
the more the merrier,

soon you’ll be working
very hard to keep
one eye in focus,
everything else moving around
in random walks,
or sparks and light.
an understatement;
focus isn’t what it was
just a little while ago.

talking in gibberish,
you exhaust the last
reserves of energy
from your soulful
one-ness with the world
around you. everyone
who isn’t there
but should be laughs,
and in the commotion
laughter falls apart into
component smiles
which dissolve into
quizzical looks at the rug.

sleep will take you back
to where you started.
some indeterminate period
of time ago
and empry bottles your only

with reconstruction
you just have to enjoy the ride.
since you won’t remember it
it’s even easier than you think
to let it all slip away,
rape your own mind
and spirit and suck
the last bits of marrow
from the bone.

with any luck at all,
there’ll be some sunlight and
statutory acceptance
in the future
of the past. the
choice is always yours,
even if the influence ain’t,

there will be time to talk about it later.
for now, fracture is the farthest thing
from our minds, Must be
something she said.


2 Responses to “coma…”

  1. […] new stuff coming soon, trying to rescue some poems that got little to no attention.) Org. post TFBP as always. […]

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