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wherefore the nettles spring forth their sugar cane
in sweet vermillion streams
flow as if from fountains once tapped never drained
liquid sunlight's piercing beams

cry for the reasons the wounds open so wide
never healing on this side
of glimmering glory many souls denied
wasted, sacrificed to pride
For hours I tossed and turned
     trying to decide
     if mania had come back to mess with my head
     or just the aged mattress on this king sized bed,
     much too big, swallowing me instead

Back into the spiral of dull vertigo
     the gravitational pull contorts my face
     so long, so hard, the grimace stays in place
     "your face will get stuck frowning", mother would say

I laughed at her then
I'm not laughing today
How to make nonsense out of bitter citrus fruits
Leave them be, already a font of nonsensical egg yolks
You do this for yourself, your own self, and no other self
Endure another fortnight daliance, you dance forthrightly

Absorb information like paranoia
The facts are lying in bed with an orange banana
How to make something lasting in a world cursed with impermanence
It cannot be done. It simply cannot be done.

The length of a breadbasket will often determine
the size of the loaf
The ratio of meat to potatoes makes nonsensical lemonade
The worst kind...worse than the worst

This document is not intended for distribution
during the lifetime of the author
Only with his passing disseminate expecting sympathy for
the old poet's story, how rarely it truly changes

The ingredients for the above mentioned nonsense
have been properly proportortioned and mixed per instruction
Take a wiff, you can smell the sweet aroma of their baking vapor
As a child I ate spoonfuls of baking powder

The aroma certainly saturates the proceedings
Almost intoxicating how it smacks your heart with nostalgia
The stupid cartoons, the National Lampoon stolen from the convenience store you hung out in
Out in, Out in, Out in, Out in, Out in, Out in, Out in, Out in, Out in

That, my friend, is the beginning from the end
That, my foe, is the bleedin' end of the road
I'm in Ian Curtis' voice, deadening repetion
Day in Day out, Day in Day out, Day in Day out, Day in Day out, Day in Day out

Ding, Ding, the timer in the kitchen chimes it's melancholy ring
The nonsense is at this present moment complete
Ready to serve, ready to eat
and please don't choke on my words, I'm half asleep
Separate the lies
Can't close it once it's wide
Didn't know what you were getting
A way of life
Pull up the slack
Yesterday happened
Eros ascended
Left me alone this morning to write about it
Blue news
Black ink from the morning paper
Staining

Wait until it's all over and done
That's when you really find out
Is it going to make sense?
Will it bewilder?
Erotica doesn't care

I wish you'd never told me I was beautiful
Because I know you would never lie
"Just look at yourself"
And I know I could see it through your eyes
If I only could shed this morning slumber
It would be easy to pretend
Vanity, get the best of me
Routine drags me to the mirror
I remove my clothes and stare
At this person who arouses him
I look harder
I gaze at the hologram in the glass
Whose eyes blink with mine
Whose chest rises and falls
With the same rhythm as my own
Who looks at me with the same intense curiosity as I view her
I wonder what she sees?
Does she see the same beauty that confounds my love?
The expression on her face tells me
She is as clueless as I am

I turn to leave
She turns with me
I walk away
She vanishes
I wonder if she looks forward
To seeing me again
If she looks forward, as I do, to our next meeting
For I cannot get her out of my head

My God
She's so beautiful
Stuck here in the middle
    with my thoughts swirlin' 'round me
Like a storm come to sweep me away

Too much thinking,
    I'm so tired of my own voice
Won't be quiet, ain't got nothin' to say...

...says it anyway.
I'm bottoming out again
My ******* atmosphere
Littered with notes, a minor key,
Of a melancholic symphony
An old, familiar enemy
Without the courtesy of knocking
Threatens to break down the door
Only to catch me bathing
In blood-thick self-loathing
Listening to Gorecki
Ringing out the thoughts in my head
In yet another vain attempt at description
But I'm thwarted by words
And my inability to place them in the proper order
To convey the physical sensation
Accompanying hopelessness, despair
None of which would be so bad
If it didn't feel like home
He was slowly drowning in air
     He was fading away and he just didn't care
He knew somewhere in his heart
     There had to be something better out there
Just out of reach, forever denied him
     ...or maybe not
          ...or maybe not

I recall we were friends
     He and I raised some hell in the old days
At least I thought we were friends
     He bought me beer and I gave him a ride home
He told me stories how his daddy would break down
    How the old man had laid a burden on him
Something he never could tell anybody
    How the pain brings a serious change
He knew, he said, from a very young age
     He was cursed to be curious, different and strange
Perhaps that's why we got along so well
     Both of us taking solace in each others' personal hell
Each others' highway to hell
     Adjoining rooms in our different hells

There was a moment. There's always a moment.
     He would think of every day for the rest of his life
It would haunt him until the day he chose to die
    Some will say that he didn't even try
Some will say everything he ever said was a lie
...and I sometimes think those people are right
           ...and I won't deny it
                
A scarecrow hanging from a rope in the bedroom
     Moon shines through an open window
Bathes the crow in the gleam of the moonlight's glow
     Swinging back and forth as the spirit breeze blows
Just a scare crow, not so creepy
     But what's it doing in the bedroom?
I gotta know
     I gotta know
The title is from a lyric in the Joy Division song "Isolation" (from the album Closer). Words by Ian Curtis. If you don't know Joy Division you would do yourself a favor to check them out.  This particular lyric came to me immediately after writing the piece and I thought it seemed to somehow fit the content of the poem.
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