So it has come to this
the precipice
of our existence
our holy eternal
impermanence
our Dia De Los Muertos
in the misery that surrounds us
leaves have turned
and legs have trembled
till your to weak
to speak
and what started as a limp
leaves you paralyzed
and the sobering truths
hang like an air freshener
while your drive
to the next destination
on a roundabout dead end
procrastinating
disintegrating
where the rubber meets the road
all the things
I have been told
turned to be bad advice
now I don’t think twice
or at all
going from ten feet
to two inches tall
so I pluck
all day
at my angels harp
while screaming
at the moon
my oldest
adversary
not to say
that the sun is my enemy
but it always made me sneeze
and I flinch and freeze
but you should never believe
when the lie is so real
its dimensional
and everything
seems irrational
and you ask
where did the passion go
what pill did I just swallow
while I wallow
threw three a.m.’s
listing to the whispers
of the birds chirp
and it hurts
like habitual hiccups
till we drift
listlessly
lost in thought
trying to translate
the entropy of fate
alone in the dark
to mental masturbate
about my date with destiny
but life
has become unfunny
my funny valentine
and the clock has run out
of time
so now
I must reset
to mountain standard time
and only me
and Dr. Seuss
know
the places you’ll go