in between every thought,
a new poem shuffles out from
my finger bones
and i don't know how to ease
the restless movement
in that pseudo-extravagant light
that starts out in my hands and
works its way down my back.

the red stained wood panels
that dress the four walls
around me in permanence - - -
torturing my restless pursuit to run
in any direction
towards some freedom
from
a
        m  i  n  d
                           oh
                                   my,
oh
my,
it's
all
really
happening
even
before
the
damage
is
done.