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Slow Swimming Between the Ice Cubes
Feet up where fat toes recline
defying gravity,
it's not 'happy hour' nor sad time,
it's just time.
The world has been over-thinking
again,
forgetting its fictional place
in the self-replicating
mind-maze.
There is no escape,
I'm just relaxing between
the tracks.
This laced numbness will quickly pass,
yet ice cubes do break through
all the dream chasing
for a while.
I'm not checked out,
not checked in,
just drinking.
Copyright ©
Eric Ashford
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