Fake descriptions of a life in tatters
clutter the hour...

drafty quiet embankments
of sanctuary under the blankets...

Hope is misplaced faith that
your heart will continue...

Shifting the ailing Earth
Roots sift the dirt deep...

So sore I
can't handle a toothache...

Privileged as I was to pass through the country
on a slick set of foreign rubber...

Paraphrasing a pretty poem;
I pluck paper pedals...

I'm in bed all day/
I got nothing to say...

Understanding one another
is cliche...

When I focus mentally
On everything...

Let’s go grab coffee
and I can savor your heroic ego...

Existing at all is an epiphany wall
Good luck trying to solve it all...