Poem: Rough Crossing

Rough Crossing

 

all at once, there was nothing except the now.  

stolen memories 

embroiling an oscilloscope.

off somewhere distant, 

voices fake as commercials,

offered tears and sighs,

 

and yet still

 

nothing that had been was real,

all of it gewgaws in glossy packages,

unable to anchor faith or tether reward.

 

there would be no more pain.

not the bleeding spells of beaten dreams.

not even loneliness.

or hunger.  

not even death itself

would survive.

 

 

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I'm having trouble getting into the blog for some reason.  If I suddenly disappear ... it's some technical thing.

 

 5/15 "embroiling an .." replaces "embroiled the ..."

5/15 "memory" replaces "memories"