Sunday, August 16, 2009

Perennial Measure 2

A perennial incredulity, really a vow, to oneself, to a god,
But really more out of habit, expecting none to love all this
Fast, lasting, and fasting fracas of vowels and non sequiturs.

This is the cramming justification I offer all my ghost-fans:
Devour nothing from nothing. I exist not, relentless though
I am in this surveying the land with the rebellious sextants;

Listen not, for you are not here, read not, I’ll see you there---
I write for the luxury of having done my non-responsibility,
Earning for myself tickets to go home, having saved private

Whining, dining alone, blogging along like a fool, like a tool
Of a lost absentee Muse from a fantasy, keyboard-stomping
Like one possessed by the devils of a sea devoid of fishes,

Solely enjoying the doldrums, a man in bikini, sharks’ envy
Whose hungers lurk around in the deepest sound of hollows.

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