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Useless Drums
Folder:
Unpublished pieces Sadness.
Eating away at the narrow precipice
that has been flung at the world,
dangling like a comma in a sentence.
I wonder. Yes I wonder,
if the falling rocks hold as much
water as a tear?
Aching tires spinning endlessly
in a rutted walkway of ambition.
Tradition.
Useless metaphor for plastic tables
set for dinners no one
plans to consume. Drink the goblet
of hemlock. Hope the pain will
not burn too long.
Enter the shadow world.
There to find the trembling knees
that represent
the illusionary space
of metaphoric charm.
Useless drums beating endlessly
to the morbid tune of
forgotten jumping jacks.
I wonder. Yes, I wonder,
what the insects feel as
they are stomped into
the ground.
Sadness.
Grasping hope dashing
itself into a river.
Watch it float away.
