** + A Glum + **
Daylight filters through my thoughts
Lumpy porridge coloured masses
Cancers of clarity
Heavy loathsome doubts
Polluted toxins I embrace
The daylight brushes all
Yet cannot bring an effervescence
A fairy imagery of imagination
Create a distance from my mundane ordinariness
I lump along don't flow
Have grace of a brick exiting
A room by a closed and locked window
Tied down and nailed down and hog tied
By my own lack of motivation
Falling as a dead cat might
When thrown from a worker's shovel
Into a deep depressing roadside ditch
Such a burial would at least be novel
Rather than this slow death
As I succumb each day and hour
To tiny gnawing teeth of Time
The deterioration of body decaying.
No comments:
Post a Comment