Sometimes I say to myself “you are not alone today”
And sometimes I say the opposite
As a mere blip on the radar
Less than a blip
A drop in the bucket
Less than a drop
That contributes to the whole

In prefab modern rooms with red brick walls
An architectural reference
But just a reference
And not even a load bearing structural element
And so many other infinite layers of metaphor that could never be fully explained

Standing on the edge of abyss the krutch looks out and spreads his arms wide
Drops and swan dives into the pavement
He picks his head up bleeding from cracked skull and looks up at the ledge he jumped from “what a rush”

As the words slowly fade into residual tedious meandering
the shovel smashes off the dry dusted ground
only leaving but a minor scratch
and the up-kick of dust
which settles leaving no visible significance
or change

I feel the pain of utter helplessness
And uselessness
And self pity
In the wake of a torrent that seems cheap in retrospect
Only now do I see