Comfortable Vertigo

hard measures. angles and what not. such as the body is. divided. slivers and threads boast their independence. the larger mass mostly gravity and the subtle science of apathy.

sex's crass magicians pull rabbits from our heads. time's adamant priests locate paradise in the most unlikely places.

there is a momentum to the grey. a tide beneath the sober. and all of us are devoured in its hunger. we can never be. nor ever have been. that time was long spent before we noticed it. we flail in our emotional bankruptcy while the taste of wealth stubbornly lingers on our lips.

the pauses have their secrets. a mania of escapes in a quiet house of cards. like the ocean. trapped in its cycle of touch and go. like the edge of the world. A much sharper angle than it would seem.

the color of flesh. always changing. dark to light. and back again. a kaleidoscope of pleasure colliding with the life's tedious conflicts.

the pretentious wars of women and their affections.

a trodden path. a footprint too far. the juncture. like a soft poison. the moment a brilliant suicide.

black ties and empty tuxedos. weigh the skeletons. the questionable accuracy of choice. a flurry of pennies and wishing wells. quieter than i remember.

flesh betrays. hope is a treason. the war comes and goes. the struggle is constant.