from bed, i rose to the occasion

stumbling towards blocks in a road that twists through backroads in a boarder-less country

i turned around

nothing left to be found

on virgin paths leading underground

i chose the high road of memories

pieces of me examined through distant eyes without the flash of a coming surprise i could supply my supple ego and charm with enough calm to disarm relics causing alarm


solitude found in replayed imaginations

comfort in connecting to the past

let me sit, loaf, and find the place where it all begin

a spectator to my own birth

squeezing through mush-hole-muddy mounds where burial dances softened an awakening ground

for the next round

where i’ll be found

distracting myself with where i’m bound

a mere reflection

in everyone’s crown

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s