Imaginary breezes in my spine
Send me softly swaying side to side
Between the borders of my desk and mind.
My body still, my thoughts just slosh around.
I never really care, but now, today,
The buzzing words, invisible, are gone.
I feel the flow of murmurs past my ears
But over oily surfaces of brain
It passes by without impact. Words are weak;
Except the ones I make myself and force
Laboriously against the haze of drugs
And snot, caffeine and vacant unconcern.
Ideas wind their way between the hills
Of sedimentary plans and memories
Completely smoothed by boredom, practice, doubt,
And apathy until I can’t hold on.
I look for igneous emotion crags,
Obsessive jutting promontories, bones
Of metamorphic diamond fears and needs,
But handholds are impossible to find
Without a will, a grip, a give-a-damn.
So, gently swaying in my seat, I listen
But hear nothing but fragment words and noise.
