Monday, January 07, 2008
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My head pounds.
Running of the bulls.
Unnerved, unpleasant, unfriendly am I, today.
Feels like a storm... but there is no storm.
It is just me.
Blowing in the wind.
This world makes me angry.
My dreams make me restless.
Sleep brings sweat.
The news makes me sick.
No where to run to baby, no where to hide.
But I try.
Run the washer, rinse the dishes.
Fold and put away.
Sell the dishes?
Maybe so.
Only seasons reliably change.
A buck is a buck.
No sense, no reason nor rhyme.
A middle aged moment.
Yearning for some clarity.
Purging the brain, in hopes that
My head will stop pounding.
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