Constant Corrections

So this is what happens…

Steady and strong, like a wave, it comes to you. It’s a slow tumbling feeling – The kind that makes your heart sink and rise like the wavering tides. Your emotion crests and crashes and everything else slowly recedes, fades out.

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Smashing my fist against

This hollow idea of corruption

I wouldn’t accept if

The weight hadn’t so crushed

And wasted too many hours

All I ask is removal

Or complete penetration of

Wicked barricades

Confusing with the stifle

Of dreams learning to die

Do these theories

And stories; Dreams aroused in passing

Go endlessly into

The same mass grave

Burial without recognition?

Until my bloody fist

Ends this brutal thievery

I shall count everyday

And continue to memorize

The obituaries of the mind

A jolly flock of merry men

And women come hither to

For craving of their own most tasteful

They ignore for yours subdue

On plates of epic sizzle pop

cuts of carnage brought to you

Alas their service ill complete

upon reciept coin; so true

For upon your dreary depart

They continue in servitude

January 2, 2009

The room is dimly lit. Beams of light defy the old dusty blankets which double as curtains. Dead still and thick as water, the air has an old, stale taste. A mattress sprawls amongst a sea of dirty dishes and dirtier laundry. The anorexic sheets of light play lazily off the collection of empty beer and wine bottles on the window seal. One stray beam warms the face of a man, betraying his youth. Though he sleeps soundly, one foot defies any sense of calm with a constant unsettling twitch.

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Chapter One

There was a time when I was absolutely naïve enough to believe I controlled my own destiny. That time has long since passed and I have come to grips with my own linear existence.

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