Anyone who cannot come to terms with his life
while he is alive needs one hand to ward off a
little his despair over his fate... but with his other hand
he can note down what he sees among the ruins.
- Franz Kafka

Monday, June 14, 2010

Thrum Thrum

Thrum thrum -
The drumming brum of humdrum numb and columb crumbs tumbling some down my tummy tum.

I am here on my bum -
Crumbs stuck in a clump in the cusp of my lips
I am licking and smacking at tumbling crumbs.

Some get sucked up down my throat to my lungs
Where they dry out my eyes with their buttery size!
In my nose in the back there they dance and they scratch
Squish a tear through a crumb in the crook of my eye 'til I'm covered - so covered -
That they gather around in an army thrust deep twixt the couch and my bum.
They will climb up the crack and come in that way, too,
But I just can't stand up! I just can't!
I'm not stuck; I'm not fat; I just can't!

I am here right here now this couch is where I am and I will not be here if I move somewhere else so I don't!
I just sit and I cannot get up I just can't I just can't I just can't I just can't I just can't.

...for a time

Can you please ask the fleas to ease me please?
I cry all the time from a thorn in my spine;
If I switch to an itch of a scratch with my time
Then the pain from the thorn in my spine is in vain
While the fleas ease the pain for a time.