GONE
I’m not ready to rejoin humankind
I keep in touch on this blog obliquely
Wrought words from a semiconscious mind
Rendered honestly albeit bleakly.
I admit under scientific law
And the force of reality’s duress
That my wife does not exist anymore
No memory no dreams no awareness.
Disappeared into the darkness of death
The same as if she had never been born
Back to oblivion with her last breath
And for me a hell that darkens each dawn.
Art by Jaroslaw Kubak
80-PROOF INSPIRATION
He was a sensitive young poet man
Got pulled over to the side of the ode
For something really fucking stupid man
Like being drunk on one helluva line
The result of ten shots of eighty-proof
inspiration and they took his license
And during the days and weeks that followed
He drove without a license and guess what
He did something fucking dumb again man
Like collide with a police car while high
on Tequila and another great line
Cops hate it when their cruiser’s totaled man
And this time the judge threw the book at him
Something truly fucking soul destroying
Like a goddamn Danielle Steele bestseller
That really hurt our fine young poet man
And now he’s one with the prose and the cons
Writing garbage on the walls of his cell
Like Psycho Mikey grabbed a box cutter
And slash slash slash slash slash slash blood and flesh
All over the place! Man that kind of shit
Can desensitize a fine poet man.
Drawing by Franz Kafka
1.
In the dead of night
the steady drumming of rain on the roof
and in the bushes outside my window
awakens my soul and sends it searching,
searching for my wife in the unknown void
where death dumped her body so frail and lost
and left me alone in a living hell
in the dead of night.
