Not long ago I mulled a submission, an attempt to once again serve a higher purpose, to find a place where I could shine, to contribute to the world around, in co-creation bleed my day away & nights of torment to follow dread.

Not long ago I mulled a submission, back when the doors were still wide open.

Not long ago I mulled the sale of my fixed abode, an attempt to find a way out of the maze that had taken hold, a way to once again set me free, to leave the memories behind, to walk down new roads paved with the unknowns of futures untold.

Not long ago I mulled the sale of my fixed abode, back when there were people working & willing to make such purchases.

Not long ago everything seemed possible, not anymore – my dear – not anymore, the future me will find the roads ablaze with the raging crowds of yesteryears, with the wanting and the searching, the hungry and the weary, not knowing what to do or where to find the safety needed to keep going, until the day of Reckoning & the final bill – outstanding

ejected from the serpent’s

lair,

I scouer the stars for signs of

life,

sustenance an absentee at the

core of self & weary heads need a

rest,

upon the shoulders of giants

a clown-face smiles:

at the pork scratchings

left on yesterday’s

plates;

on empty tables at

Inns now deserted and

bleak,

I scouer the stars for signs of life &

meaning,

hope my first abandonment;

the clown’s smile never

waning

The flashbacks,

sinusoidally like snakes

my dearest friends,

lack proper context as they

present themselves,

as they show me events: for real for sure,

I worry they might be; to a degree – true,

I fold my gaze inwards

onwards and downwards,

spiraling mindlessly into the

shards of broken glass,

I bury my unshaven face deep

head first

in the quicksands

of my mind,

wanting flashbacks of love

but none is coming