I worked my way up the charts
Made it to the top, I parked myself
Along the way, in some over zealous
Shallow right angled sentence, lacking
Full stops. Stripped clean, washed of
Thought, of deed. 'Inability' dangling
From fingertips that were bitten to the
Quick, sore from chewing on anxious..
Lyrics, repeatedly playing.  I forgot
To lift the stylus and hang it up to rest
And so it played on...and on...and on
I lost touch with its hiccup....sinking
To some far off disconnection.  If I try
To recall...it blinds me, my right eye
Out of focus with my left, seeing
The unseen; but if you asked me what
That meant...perhaps I'd sigh without
Knowledge, perhaps I'd smile with knowing
Nothingness, perhaps I'd scream with
Insufficient lungs, perhaps I'd sing an
Unknown melody....that repeats and repeats
                                                         ­                   ......its hiccup...beatless

© Laura Susan Smith