My body sweats like a cornered animal–
one in full knowledge of its doom.
Are you mocking me from up there?
Maybe you know, I’m not supposed to be here anymore.
There is a need to escape.
Cross the land bridge before it sinks into oblivion–
like the cornered animal with its inedible bones.
Nothing of value produced, save a pair of usable offspring, one must not appear completely heartless.
I do thank you for calming me this evening.
The wine bottle has poured dry and empty.
Closets are bulging at the seams with meaningless feathers.
The single-bulb, reading lamp is casting shadows longer than my pen.
Whatever my scrawl is this time of night, it is difficult to interpret.
And you, up there mocking me–
allowing me to fantasize over hope and comfort and dreams.
In denial you are, the sureness of a life’s work–
round and round and dumbly satisfied.
Well, how does this move you;
Your starburst shadow against the ceiling, long and lean–spinning, always spinning–
begs for mercy and a final escape it will never realize.