Drycicles

Look at me, God damn you! Turn your eyes from the floor,

I’ve arrived at your door, can’t you at least

Pretend

I am here?

Look at me, I say! It’s been so many years I’ve been

Navigating

These oceans with the albatross down my neck. And despair, oh,

Torment and despair

There was little to do but was so much to bear. And now, chuckle,

I’ve arrived as was promised by that goddamning oracle that bound

Soul

To my soul. Goddamn fish in a bowl, yes I was!… so indulge me this ranting

That takes place on a field laying gray, me, the wind, and these pictures

In Sargassian tones,

These nonsensical pictures. Time flew by, on a Sunday.

It was Hell’s Day. That’s it.