2008-06-18

through the wire

The clouds fail to ring. I search the sky for pills. I search my life for holes, places where purpose and comprehension may have been lost. I search existence for maps indicating wrong turns taken--or right turns memorialized by neglected opportunities. These memorials are like those left on the corners of busy avenues--photographs, teddy bears, and wreaths of flowers lain for accident victims. I search for barbed wire I can ring around my bed to keep your ghost out of my dreams. The living avoid me all day. And the dead chase me all night