Saturday, February 20, 2021

NOT BANKING ON A LAST HURRAH

 My dreams are


filled with holes



and unidentified



flying objects.



My thoughts are

 

skittish
 as moths

 

in a light show,



flirting with graceful

 

death 
by free fall



but with a smidgen

of intent thrown in.



My hopes stagger,



bludgeoned,



by a boisterous fool

in a mirrored room



where blood collects



in prismed corners.

My debts to the living



are nearly paid.



I’m almost up to date



but badly dated.



I live inside my head

 


in an age before disco

when a hand held out

was for pulling up


not pushing down.

 


I don’t know how

to navigate

 

this newest now.



Yet here I am.



I’m hoarding

 

my last breath –



the only collateral

 

I can trust.

 

Fearless # 66

January 2019