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Friday, December 05, 2008


Coming down

Off caffeine rush

Back to the pot

Emptied into mouth

Burning from scalding water

Opens blisters and washes clear

Your head from webs

Collecting on synapses

Fire dull blue flames

That produce no heat

Evaporates in AC dullness

Keeps the point pointless

To climb up now

The high is low and the low is dead

To the world only bed will work

Off this metronome swing

That gets tighter into a noose

Hangs me upside down

In a sludge puddle

Glopping my sinuses

Gentle winds quiet after the rough hurricane

Pounds the morning

Chaos gives way to mid day

Shock and awe


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