Faced with a few days
Lucidly, I attempted a turnaround
Cleansing menu served five ways
It was failure, stupidity
The medical professionals in a haze
Chasing me, neither phoenix nor hound
It was left up to whomever pays
Missing the closeness, deeply
I wondered when the call would come
Terminating, be it not my way
Shorter than most, longer than some
On foreign range, steeply
I hoped to salvage some tiny crumb
The nectar of note the piper might pay
To answer the riddle of shrill or hum
In this vector of reality
Urging smoke to climb through teepee
Still an infant watching silence raise
Distraction with a near by thumb
Known, the churn of a burning sound
And all for the gift of day
Sleepy, slow, clay hardened to glaze
All our lives, ellipses feeling round
Fillets leaving chum
The ground
Littered with our choice to stay
Amazed with the maze
Gift of play
While, lingering around
Scum, sanitation, decay
--
7.27.09
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