Monday, May 2, 2011

Solar Return

Twenty-seventh solar return:
Comes and goes.
Like everything, lately.
No words.
Vertigo pins me in bed.
Broken viscera pins me
In lethargy and loathing,
Lack of try
Every day increasing. 
"What is it that causes you the most pain?
What do you feel you need most, right now?"
Can't answer her in less than a novel,
So don't answer, 
At all.
But her face tells me she heard me anyway.
On my knees
Like her;
Hands in hot bleach water
Like her:
Scour
Baseboards grout steel tile
While the sun shines,
While the world rolls on,
While debt - 
Monetary and chronological - 
Piles up
And achievement leaks away
In direct proportion. 
And I don't care,
Sort of. 
Because I do it,
Choose it,
It is. I am. 
What,
I don't know.
It will end,
Because, tired and old and spent,
Because everything self-made,
I'll unmake. 
Kinesthetic:
Crack my head on walls to know
They're there.
There, there.
Seeing them is not enough. 
I shrug and walk the other way.

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