Dogs 2010

NO WORDS
(11/12/10)


a pusillanimous
pestilence
percolates
persistently soulward
from a simmering
hell
of unnamed
demons

what
do they
want?

why
can they not
simply speak
their torment
instead of festering
about the fringes
of my consciousness?

theirs
is no cataclysmic
upheaval
of immortality

at their worst
they are only able
to feebly irritate
my mortal
sensibilities
detracting somewhat
from an otherwise
pleasant
existence

no purveyors
of unbearable pain
they do create
a soreness
as if pressing
steadily between
my shoulder blades
with tiny fists
grinding
turning
never relenting

I quickly
stretch about
to psychically
surprise them
but cannot
quite reach
the area
of my discomfort
to massage away
their abrasive
remains

they
bother me
most
when silent
and still
but they are
never
unbearable

unfortunately
I am not
alone

"are you
OK?"

"are you
upset
with me?"

I look
at her
either nod
or shake
my head
and smile

how
can I ever
explain
this minor
insanity