Archive for November 7th, 2011
Searching for Fine Excuses
There is an ongoing, piercing ailment,
at the base of the neck, in the shoulder,
highly repetitive.
I try to convince my gray mind,
Here is the source of my depression,
but I know better; I’m permanently damaged.
Two men in the hallway try to crush me
with vibrant, devilish energy.
I watch as the sidewalks
start to explode with foreign,
living things, and I know I am broken,
fouled up, created with bad shit.
City People Left Me Here
They block one lane,
but there’s no traffic.
No pedestrians today.
We’re all under blankets,
though weather is quite mild.
The hiss is from man’s machine,
not a good addition to Beethoven’s 7th,
but I eventually block it out
as I do the rest of the happenings,
but the smoke from the machine scares me.