reduced to mumblings,
head-scratching and neurotic concern,
I'm a shell of a man,
eating beans from a can,
cloaked in the driving rain,
half bottle of whiskey,
and a gypsy's curse,
I watch the fan spin,
and an ant on the window ledge,
crawling closer to my perception's edge,
think about the same problem,
from a different angle,
like celebrities flashing a hand made triangle,
a room with four walls,
a twisted fate,
a programmed construction of a god of love and hate,
did this same god create this same ant to drag a wasp ten times it's weight?
3 comments:
They're gonna say you were a wise man, Dox.
Yes, God did create that ant. Just like he created this blog, my blog, and the bloganauts posting from outer space. Just like he created acid reflux (burp) and fat a$$es and all bran cereal. Good post. I'm sure God nodded at the human despair your so perceptively describe.
Your poem makes a great devotion.
Old Ollie
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