Broken cache.

Your mind isn’t some dusty rafter,
some godforsaken,
moth-laden crossbeam
looking like an ancient church burned to the ground by hypocrites and their delusions of order.

Head down.
Knees buckled.

Not even the writing utensils
you always said
would be there.

No words to express the depth of how
much you care about this little waste
of time
you inhibit.

But you do care.
You care so so much.

You care until you find yourself
on the bedrock of a bed-bug riddled carpet
soiled by coal burns and laundry detergent, inhaling a handful of nicotine
into hyperventilating lungs, repeating the romantic mantras
of self-made men,
and appealing to an invisible omnipotence
that mundane pharaoh’s and their portentous hieroglyphics
won’t burst through the fabric of gravel, and non-existent currency, and youthful angst
and swallow you like Jonah
to spit you out on barren dunes of entropy and day-to-day frustrations.

You worry until the anxiety of generals and gods
renders you forlorn and forsaken
by good fortune,
and you wake in a mound of stresses piled high, like
used car parts in an east-end

and you watch as all the careful strategies and battle tactics
chase their own endings into
a paradox of unsustainable

And even as the moon of gritty, objective
smashes through your idealistic window
until the blood and glass mixes
with the tears of a premature breakdown,

you desperately hope the world
is even real, that it isn’t all some twisted, solipsistic

and you hope you’re not alone,
and that a day exists where the landscape of her fingertips is the only
thing worth analyzing

and sleep overcomes all other, lesser
and the silence of eternity carries
your life-soaked legacy

beyond the infinitesimal
and into vivid, dancing 

Willie Watt


One thought on “i.

  1. les statistiques publiées par le magazine Forbes , en 2007 plus de 200 millions de prescriptions de statines ont été effectivement farcies .

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