Thoughts that wash against the shores of my mind
Like a sea of Madness
Saturating reality with demonic tenderness
Capsizing any rescue boat dispatched by reason
Memories bleeding an opalescent regret over me
Like the vicious reproaches of nostalgia
Wreaking of age like a dusty box of impotent love letters
Fragile feelings gaining momentum, strengthening and lengthening
Like unwelcome and inconvenient erection
Then winding to strangle like a boa constrictor on a mission
Dread bathing and drenching the reflections and lurking in shadows
Like a cloaked and hooded Doom
Strolling arm and arm with Grief
Wearing the mask of every Enemy ever known
And even hungry hobo Phantoms
Answering to each name in their own voices
The echoing choir of voices
Penetrating from all direction with such determination
Like mad sperm attacking a languid ovum
No speed limit to the ritualistic frenzy
Murmuring chants, yelling in whispers
Senses, direction, reality and fantasy all exquisitely confused
And a storm rages in my pulse
No panic throbs but mine
Figment of repititious imagination
Fragment of quasi-recognition
Flake of resemblance to some distorted reality
Sublime nausea as the vomit pours like egg nog
The gun goes off in a wild mad-like laugh
The lights flicker last call...last call...last call...
A train runs through my head in familiar lullabye
And the cow jumps over the moon
The sirens sweetly call me home
©2000 poetheart