poetry, prose, and other strings of words · 1993 - 2003
Emptiness
Number 147
October 18, 2000
Sitting.
Bothered. Staring.
Screen glows cold back at me,
The phosphor aura—like my life.
I stand, sit, whatever;
In my periphery a slow whirlwind
Moves in.
Turbulent, undulating,
Tsunamis of memory overwhelming
This puny form.
With cryptic bits of thought and feeling.
Swirling—
Swirling—
Swirling—
Nothing makes sense, of a sudden,
In my lost little world.
The fullest emptiness is loneliness