Dogs 2012

BISMUTH FOR BREAKFAST
(4/6/12)


I am
awake
but have yet
to open
my eyes

already
10,000
assassins
of minutia
are assailing
my senses

a legion
of daily
minor duties
and requirements
elbowing their way
to the service desk
in my mind
demanding
attention

then
the badger
trapped
in my gut
begins to thrash
and tear
struggling
to escape
this withering
bag
of flesh

can
I do this
another
day?

is there
enough energy
remaining
to take that
first footfall
from the sanctuary
of this bed?

my focus
drifts a bit
from this
metaphysical torment
and I wonder
at the freedom
of exile

I could
simply refuse
to place
my game piece
upon society's
board of bedlam
and find
an alternate
diversion
less fraught
with stress
and insanity

sure

sell everything

return
to the cloistered
environs
of my
solitude

find
a simple
menial form
of employment
to furnish
my meager
living expenses

remember
that to advance
socially
can cause
my sensibilities
to rankle
rot
and putrefy

I am
essentially
a monk

a monk
of madness

to be
anything
else
seems
a grave
error

~

the alarm
sounds

I arise
in a rush

there is much
to do
today

I need
a drink

a drink
of the pink