I'm pacing the corridor,
that desperate zone
between insomnia and insanity,
sanctuary of eccentrics
and junkies
chasing a word, a fix,
a revelation,
an allegorical mix
of purple haze, logic and similes...
It's a race of attrition,
of addicts incurring
meteoric costs of opportunity
irretrievable,
surreal,
euphoric,
and misunderstood...
like mania
this corridor precedes time
and space
it is the beginning
of faith and exploration
and revelation....
dead poets live here...
~ P (Pablo)
(7/31/2013)