Thursday, April 21, 2005

Return of the poet.

This is
the first
new piece
that I
have written
in three
long lonely
desolate months.

I tried so hard to
keep from losing my soul
in the everyday
in the drive for the end
in soulless textbook days
filled with nothing but
input-output into this
custom-crafted gigahertz processor
that sits inside my head
there's nothing wrong here
everything's okay here
i'm just fine
move along there's nothing to see

and all i could do was watch
the red of the taillights
of the rest of the world as they
drove off toward the glowing west
and the sight made me blind
and i went stumbling through the streets
toward traffic and it plowed
my back and made its furrows long

while my soul just died inside my chest and rotted
and everyone else could feel its stench
but dead women can't smell, now can they

so with these words i run across
the finish line in my race around this writer's block
brought back from the dead to
the brave new world
of the written Word.


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