| "Where men may
read strange matters"
Freeform poetry
With every minute that passes
It comes to me
Slowly.
Someone has set my life afire
And by the light of the flame
I can see the rubble,
standing and watching
As others rush violently
Trying to damp it out.
It comes to me
Who I am
And what I have become
(Or have always been).
And the guilty finger points
As it must, to me,
For I have torched my life
Just to watch it burn
To watch others scurry to save it
And to laugh
And to laugh
And to laugh.
Quiet the pressure that
Pounds in my brain,
The fission of thought and mind
Creates a light too intense.
Still it.
I know now why they drilled holes
In their heads, holes not for
This pressure to escape but for
Foreign atoms to enter in, to
Start the reaction just stilled
To catalyze my brain
Into a giant experiment of soul chemistry.
All of the time
All of the time
Right here in front of my long nose
My crooked nose which makes my sight
Crooked which steers me
Crooked
All of the words
All unwary words
I crush them there onto my long page
In my crooked language which speaks me
Crooked which leaves me
Crooked.
Please ignore anything that I write in this line. I had a
great deal of difficulty getting this page to align correctly and was forced to take this
silly step to get everything in line.
Email me:
[email protected]
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