A Poem a Day Keeps the Zoloft Away

The universe

slits my strings of

malcontent

leaving me at the

mercy of no more Gippetto

and having to take hold of

mine own fate.

I plummeted as far as

conceived.

Screaming and spitting

spinwheel dreams

shimmering and

glimmering the

obscene

recollections I have for

what it was like in my

forefather’s time.

Predicting

what it will be in my forbearing

son’s time

forgetting what it should

be like in my time.
#306