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AN INQUIRING CATCH
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JOURNAL #11 time trembles in my hand like a precarious
alarm clock set to rudely awaken
a sound, sleeping soul's quiet morning
as where what once before endeared
now only manages to aggravate and confound
it does so with what seems like
no apparent warning
the ever silent bruising of absolute gull
corrects mistakes I have even yet to make
killing in me all feelings of former
misfortune and self inflicted flaw
as each relentlessly slams my battered
yet bemused and failing senses in each
its separate wake
when utilities of justice come to only
bicker over small matters of some present
petty excuse
one finds oneself in the boiling pot of
culture
cooking (being cooked) right along side
the proverbial goose
lavishly quite (all too) blatantly over
what little logic one has left in his
bedraggled mind
should one happen to catch the bouquet
from a ten year or so marriage of page
then terrible tempers flown foul will
come to find
all and yet no answers in their self
destructively empty rage
now
dear sir
you tell me
just how far
have you fallen behind..............
(Dec. 25, 1993 pm)
