(Written 14 April 2025 at 12:53 am)
The ways in which
The machines sound and the lights blink
The electrons move
The conversation stagnates
And then maybe finds its groove
The smells permeate the toxic air
Before you barely notice it
Your lips begin to frame a thought
But your mind loses the important bit
My heart beats, all Okay
Until it starts to scream
The full moon shines confidently over
What turns out to be a dream
Are shards, and jagged at that, of
The incoherent flux
That too-loudly claims to be the tapestry
Explaining why it all sucks.
