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This
Strum the strings of that ukulele.
Whistle a tune I've never heard.
The music in my head is ruined-
by the sounds of drunkards puking
and old men courting younger ladies.
I am the Blues.
Take me places my mind never dared to go.
I cannot comprehend myself.
My head is as big as a globe.
It hurts to think.
The hands of the clock play tug of war.
My heart is on fire and it
spins
spins
spins, around the bottle-
love drunk and almost entwined.
Soul and body clashed
trashed
smashed.
Wake me up.
Pick me up.
I’m falling.
The houses on the hill stand still.
Lights going on and off.
Shadows of people making love.
In the other window, a mother-
filling up the hole in her heart with Clorox.
Ocean elevating in pixel-waves.
Moon looking down in disapproval.
The feather reed grass stares at me.
It is screaming:
There is more to life than this.
There is more to life than this.
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