Thursday, December 3, 2009


Is a fair cut-out- copy of a day
A day worn out and scuffed
A day covered with ointment and plasters
Blistered and bleeding being,
This day,
Unlike and akin to all others
Scooped out of its shell
Floundering in quicksand
Stuck and strung to inevitability
I am reminded of Sisyphus pushing that boulder up a hill
Reminded of the stuttering silence
Peeled back like orange skin
Sweet and insensitive
Remembers itself
Mimicking the years before it
It is a fair carbon copy
An attempt at normality and prudence
At living through
Though standing still
At moving on a wheel
Caught in place and space
At pushing through its edges
Bleeding out
Without boundary or conscience
Like water that is leaking through a hole in the wall.