warrengoff
03-14-2015, 06:50 PM
The Drain
It always gets worse
It's irregularly regular
It is like a migraine of mind
A cyclical agony within
A menstruation of spirit,
A burdensome consumption
Of an insignificant recollection
Cast in fossilized lies.
The orbits pulsate
A cluster headache
Pounding on the brow
Lids of lead lag painfully
Exhausted eyes with
Thunder cloud circles
Strained in tears.
Ready to go
Into a boring sunset
Behind a naked eucalyptus
The impulse to go
Closing closed doors
Preparing for the promise
Of the beginning of nothing
Rolling dice
Betting don't pass
With dandelion
Love you not's as
A pubic hair hangs in
A cervical circlague
Like a tether.
The safety pin is strung
In the key of God
The metronome conducts
The plectrum which
Attacks the barrel
Like a nail
Hung by the hair
Wobbly legs
On the edge
Of the ledge
Stumbling in circles
In dizzying delirium
On an earthquake
Of indecisiveness
The little me in a rough sea
Surfaces like Flipper
Squealing in pleasure
Promising safety and love
Concealing hope in lies
Cajoled into control
Yanked from the shore
Returning home
Accepting the burden
Of tolerating the drain.
Warren Goff 2-7-2015
It always gets worse
It's irregularly regular
It is like a migraine of mind
A cyclical agony within
A menstruation of spirit,
A burdensome consumption
Of an insignificant recollection
Cast in fossilized lies.
The orbits pulsate
A cluster headache
Pounding on the brow
Lids of lead lag painfully
Exhausted eyes with
Thunder cloud circles
Strained in tears.
Ready to go
Into a boring sunset
Behind a naked eucalyptus
The impulse to go
Closing closed doors
Preparing for the promise
Of the beginning of nothing
Rolling dice
Betting don't pass
With dandelion
Love you not's as
A pubic hair hangs in
A cervical circlague
Like a tether.
The safety pin is strung
In the key of God
The metronome conducts
The plectrum which
Attacks the barrel
Like a nail
Hung by the hair
Wobbly legs
On the edge
Of the ledge
Stumbling in circles
In dizzying delirium
On an earthquake
Of indecisiveness
The little me in a rough sea
Surfaces like Flipper
Squealing in pleasure
Promising safety and love
Concealing hope in lies
Cajoled into control
Yanked from the shore
Returning home
Accepting the burden
Of tolerating the drain.
Warren Goff 2-7-2015