poetry, prose, and other strings of words · 1993 - 2003
Confronted By Life
Number 145
July 1, 2000
For so long, it seems,
somnambulance has been my style.
Reality's obscured for all—
still, we can part the clouds dancing 'round our
minds.
But that requires energy.
Energy requires food.
Food does not magically appear.
We must know something of what's missing
before we can find it.
Are you listening?
Are you listening?
(I am a thief.)
I am a shadow.
Reality chokes the shadow,
the shadow wishes to stand still,
wishes to fight reality,
wishes to stroke reality,
wishes to opaquely face reality.
Opaquely.
Awaken!
That is an easy word,
all words are sluts.