Victim of Survival
I am crushed beneath the weight of the
World collapsing on me--the sky is falling
Like London Bridge or ashes, ashes, and the
Rubble is my burial mound. I lie beneath it,
Calm. When I'm trapped, no one can expect me
To do anything more than survive.
I could struggle against gravity
But maybe I lack conviction
Or maybe apathy has gotten the best of me.
The loss is an earthquake; it leaves me
Trembling, but breathing. For a moment,
I think I am dead--so I
Write myself back to life, digging with
Words that are shovels, face turned up,
Looking for the light--I can see it, it's
Blinding. The promise of freedom. I can
Taste the air again. I will survive
Despite pressure, loss, and gravity.
Ideas
Ideas drive
Through my mind
Like traffic.
Some race,
Gone before
I can see them;
Others putter along,
Meandering,
Requiring pause,
Drawing attention
With brake light red.
And some ideas
Break down
On the brain
Superhighway--
Stuck, and causing
The entire world
To stop.
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