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White Vaporous Dust

White vapors appear as pollution sized continents reside in our open waters. Men are missing more teeth than technology has to offer. Beggars are asking for cigarettes and demanding five dollars. Cars are so many and trashed, and then wasted. Dry eyes rub off dead skin to become ashes exhausting a terminal dust. Addiction is drugged cellular phones that obscenities are advertised in the down facing eyes focused on the palm of your hand. The trend catches up quick as sleep becomes utterly lost in your conception of time. Coincidences become too many to look the other way. The parade of paranoia is just a long lost dust in the winds of our lives. I even have found myself spelling in numbers, only to discover an ancient text depicting the end of mankind. Described in admirable fashion, the words flew off the screen and premonition landed spot on; striking nerves within me. As epiphanic realizations connected many dots of my personal life encounters . . . Later that same day, white vapors once seen spirited, then became tangible as an exhalation of white dust left little doubt in the powerful truth of the contents read in this context. Practically insane, driven by intentional insomnia, paranoia paralyzed my entire being as prophesy and reality became forever linked—bound by a common thread—collecting the same amount of time and ultimately each plagued, polluted and diminished in white vaporous dust. 3-19-17

Copyright © | Year Posted 2017




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Book: Shattered Sighs