A thousand-yard stare
leaves ice shelf
ravines
grandiose canyons
constant chasms
Calcuttan
black holes
Cumberland gaps
and devils
betwixt
here
and
there
Kentucky doesn’t exist
and there is no otherside
Purgatorial
is the in-between space
of neither
here
nor
there
Heavenly hellishness
Wings of burning nothingness
No future or past
nevermind
the presence
drifting in the space
amidst
sane and insane
on an asteroid without
any future collision
purposeless
and simply without a
here
or
there
A memorandum written
on paper lost in a foreign galaxy
by a chaotic spaceship crash
Dissociated.
childhood
Burning Gratuities
Catastrophe
strikes – once, twice?
Thrice and out of here.
A bomb masquerading as a bowling ball;
this heavy burden of
duplicity.
In a race to get hot
the pot is calling the kettle…
“Boiling?”
“No, just lit.”
“And, half-full?”
“No, half-empty.”
Sigh.
“Okay. Thanks a lot.”
Now, stand back and watch the fireworks.
Tick, tick… broom.
Embarrassed;
fallen Ash is swept aside;
a remnant of explosive outbursts.
Burning gratuities of rage
make the face
of a clock
that time
could not change
nor cataclysm
erase.
Counting down to
dinner-time.
But, no just desserts
just yet.
Repeatedly,
primordial soup
is forcefully ingested
and teary-eyed child is
degraded.
Erupting memories;
simmer
indelible scars;
resurface.
Unfaded.
