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I swim a sea that has no shore or bottom
The North Star hides behind a cloudy sky
The winds increase with every passing moment.
The waves, once flat, are looming very high.

A jellyfish has stung me on the ankle.
My side is knotted in a painful cramp.
My arms are growing numb with endless flailing
And the clockwork of my mind has gotten damp.

Before the rust locks down all hope of thinking
I must tread salty water for a span;
Stop contemplating how I dumbly got here,
Somehow devise a working rescue plan.

Can hope be found amidst the desolation
Of knowing all the errors that I’ve made:
Believing I somehow could walk on water
It didn’t matter how my game was played.

Though I had several copies of the rule book
I never found the time to sit and read,
So I jumped in, expecting native cunning
To lift me to the top, where I would lead

Those lacking my superior perception
To places they had only dreamed about.
I’d be hailed and lauded as a savior-
Instead I only heard the fearful shout

Of those who swim behind me in an ocean
That shows no sign of coming to a beach-
That certainly will pull us down and drown us
As angry yells become a frightened screech.

The sea I swim that has no shore or bottom
Is really just my ego in disguise-
So big it blocked my vision and my hearing
Til only now, at last, I’ve heard the cries

Of hopes too waterlogged to keep on floating
Of soggy dreams that never can come true- more
Of efforts wasted training in a puddle-
Of agonizing clarity of view.

At last I’ve come to recognize this ocean.
I know what’s on the nonexistent shore.
It’s swim or sink so I keep stroking forward
Although there is no reason any more.

And though my strength is quickly disappearing,
There’s really nothing that I haven’t tried.
So I just flounder onward in my struggle
To somehow make it to the other side.

Knowing there is no one there to greet me-
Knowing there is nothing there at all-
Knowing that no miracle will save me-
No one will ever see the tears that fall

In vain attempt to expiate my folly;
To pay atonement for the things I’ve lost.
To somehow make my life not end up wasted-
To gain some value from it’s painful cost.

So left arm, right arm, kick, kick, kick.
I gain an inch and just as often lose one
The sea I swim that has no shore or bottom
Will take me with the rising of the sun.
ljm
My longest foray into rhyming.  Apologies for gloominess.
Life's magic gone now.
Small stage, characters crowd,
weary viewers watch,
Tricks repeat, no spark.
Life has lost it's spell.
~
It feels like the anesthetic is wearing off

This circus of machines

From coin-operated hostility

To wholesale apathy refineries

They tell us it's winter down in the subdermal

They tell us the foundation has grown weak

Dislocation is a incoming storm

Mirrors are distorted screens

Placeholders really

In a city without children

Even the statues weep

Snow upon the ground that was once blood

Now an empire without heirs

Even the trees hate us

~
Distant bells
jingle

getting louder
as he comes

down the street
a bright white truck

rolling toward us
and if we hurry

we can scavenge through
kitchen drawers

and scrounge up
just enough change

for an ice cream
treat

we can make it work

we always do
In your hole
Not sure you know
Just how far
This poison goes
Or how deep
Your Shoveling
Is digging up
Toxicity

Volatile
Contagious
It's affecting
All of us
What is the point
Continuing
This staining rot
Toxicity

There is no doubt
It covers ground
Eats at the soul
Of those it's found
What you toss
You also reap
At a cost
Toxicity
it’s hot
sweat drips
whispers down
my back between shoulder blades
towards otherworldly valleys
which causes me to look down

contemplate unshaven legs
yes yes i will shave you
slice each hair off with wee blades
only to see them grow back again
which makes me contemplate
tweezers

ripping out mini irritations
should i pluck my eyes out?
would life be better blind?
to everything and every little flaw we see?
to every little scar and every visual lie?
it makes me listen to english music
watch subtitled foreign movies
with their darker ingrown endings
they seem more realistic

if i spoke with an olde french accent
would it better match my hairy demeanor?
perhaps match my inner wild?
embrace my graying
au naturale?

but hairy legs are so inelegant
and these tiny hair follicles
completely underestimated
i dont feel like it
i'm shaving my legs
because i'm hot
and want to go swimming
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