I wear my ugly sky glue paper because of the work mandate
It reminds no one of a pretty summer or spring day believe me
Warm sweat droplets under my nose slide into my mouth
I have been capsulated into a self-imposed mini sauna
Hot vibrant blue wrinkled latex-free gloves suppress my hands
Making no easy task of the things I have to do to get checked out
This is May eighteenth of twenty twenty, in full swing of pandemic panic.
This school check out for the summer is surreal; a nightmare
Fog steams up my glasses as I take a deep warm foggy breath.
Not seeing this mess is almost as terrific as seeing.
I put my head down and begin to work, packing up an office
I have not been to for over nine weeks; coronavirus be damned!
The feeling of floating through time and space
Loneliness and silence consumes me
Wrapped in darkness like a swaddled infant
No beginning or ending
Forever searching for light
No emotion or sense of touch
Capsulated in an endless loop of confinement
No exit for escape
Forever searching for release from the limbo of my existence
Old: I got hosed
New: I got Trumped
Old: This sucks!
what sucks
New: Being Trumped
Old: Obama (good)
New: Trump (bad)
maybe
Old: Looks like a godsend now
New: sniffs his nose up like a clown.
HA
HA
HA
HA
HA
BOOM
Old: We all shall become
that is
New: Not if I have anything to do with it.
(DAMN YOU . . . HAIR! Damn you, you...hair) old
Old: May very well get escorted up into heaven.
New: Trumped trumped trumped trumped DOWN!
beneath the ground
Surrounded by fences and tall walls
Capsulated by his very own self.
It is my pleasure to finally introduce yourself to you . . .
4/7/16
Invariable measures find me concluded with torment.
Crystallized reflections peripherally surpass imaginations advent.
Crackling blisters intern vivid arbitration, as if to teach spine-chilling lessons.
Collapse goes hostage lungs, held up and recorded in air gasping sessions.
Constant ringing beneath definitions light concealed bag piped eye shadows haunting address.
All occurs timed perfectly for surprise panic attacks; choking on nothingness.
White vaporous visuals infiltrate what sight left remains.
Useless kicking and screaming ended then when normalcy fathomed midst windowed pains.
Feelings numb agony crippled sightless time; acoustic sound walls burrow.
Vines manifest scandalous intent, my surrounded record beckons such growth still; you expect me to feel sorrow.
12/09/16
TICK-TOCK, TICK TOCK, TICK-TOCK,
SIXTY SECONDS TO A MINUTE,
SIXTY MINUTES TO AN HOUR,
TWENTY-FOUR TO A DAY,
AN INFINITE MOMENT,
TO EXPRESS A NOTION,
MASTERING RIGHT,
A CAPSULATED POTION,
FLATTERING LIFE,
WRITING IS WHAT I'VE CHOSEN.
HOPING TO ENLIGHTEN,
AND UPLIFT.
AS TIME TICKS AWAY,
EACH DAY,
EACH WORD,
IN TIME,
A SPECIAL GIFT.
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