Old fat bald
I've become a cliché
I resemble myself less
Than I fancied I did
In shocking youth
Now my ejaculations wild
Seem perfectly sane
Irrelevant
My identity is reduced
To a small pyramid
The base the length of a finger
Squeezed in the center
Of my face
Now I'm the spirit
Shuffling through the attic
In the dark
Dim and searching
Still lit but fading on the page
Losing shape and distinction
I'm not bored
Or afraid
I'm mildly disturbed
By the way things work out
Even when you're
Enlightened
Fulfilled
Satisfied
2 comments:
Very strong work--worth the wait. Were they intended as a pair?
No. MF Day I wrote in New Hampshire sitting by the lake. The other came to me last night around 3 am, couldn't sleep.
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