I Don't Know What Else To Say (from "A Slip Of The Tongue")

really,
the river has run dry
the ink is dull
nights and days run together and I have grown
bored with all of this.
and in me
an unending night has opened like a flower
to let the demons file rank
to my door.
the snails have rotted in their shells.
the frogs have choked on the flies.
the world has turned gray
and my finger nails continue to grow long
and I look at them and debate and debate
when I will cut them.
the TV is a blank screen.
the internet is a question.
technology has become a familiar
whore.
I am sick with all of this,
and even a short vacation to the mountains cannot cure
this.
another drink
another drink,
more bottles and
hours and
days.
when the demons make their move
when they come for me
I will ask them
in that hour:

this life that I have been living,
is this what death
is like?

View Poem (posted 5:52 PM) 

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