Write.
Content, on a page.
Semantics.
Heuristics in the content.
Words on a page.
Something from nothing.
Scratch that.
Nothing in something.
A farce.
II.
The teardrop in my eye.
Wavelengths refract,
into kaleidoscope sight.
III.
A thought,
This little spasm,
This little fleck of mind rebounding,
Cascading through brain tissue in chemical waves,
It’s slippery,
Amorphous, vague, tinted in memory.
IV.
Sometimes the sounds are lost.
All that is left is . . .
That, that, that, tok, tok, tok away of seconds on the wall,
A beat,
But not a sound.
V.
And into it I fall,
The deep well of reality.
It’s overwhelming, the infinity deafening.
And I swim joyously in my deafness. 
No comments:
Post a Comment