gnawing

June 26, 2009 12:00AM

gnawing away at the pillows,
thoughts spluttered skyward,
left-then-right-then
skyward….
taunting sleep.
people and half-seen-half-spoken
phantoms.
lovely festering specters,
pillow-gruel and punch, the
grit of the day splashes down and
bad-bad-bad
i’m pouring whiskey into a wine glass on the
border of 12 a.m thursday-friday.

a filmstrip keeps peeling away at these lids,
half-unseen and haunting, of the
every-day mire, of the
bliss, of the bramble, the
sediments of regret.

blah to the power, there is no
regret, just puddles speaking in
ripples and riddles whispering
foreign
garbled
tongues.