you can’t see it, but it’s there.
stirring through my brain, whirring like
insane little machine men
maniacally screwing and drilling their way
through every pore
of my poor, overworked psyche.
Man, there’s just so much…so many tales that I want to
draw through my fingertips like
the deadliest black widow weaves her impermanent throne.
I want, I NEED to write, but that silly
called the internet is so damn elusive, and
for some crazed reason
the thought of using and saving a Word
document steals the very inspiration from my synapses.
Is this madness?
Are you madness?
These days, I just can’t tell.
oh, the words that flood the very crevices of my brain! Tales of
robot chickens, inordinate bovine,
loss, gain, paranoia, strain
death and rebirth – yet again
all in one, though there’s always that
lull of suspension
like the longest twilight
until once again,
grasp the meaning of lungs and air
but the maniacal mechanical
men must do their work,
organizing and tidying the messes of
past days and
shed ways of being, ways of
identifying with you, me, and all the other
lunatics that dare listen to something other than
I BEEZ IN THE TRAP
(which, unfortunately, makes more cents than sense).
Until then, I must stick to
blips and beeps of meaning and seasons
that I used to know,
capturing the parts that make up the whole
so that I can present it all,
in a pretty little blogged package,
to those who care to read it.