Couch lock

The air riddled with lifeless conversation,

chock full of useless tidbits and informative dribble.

 I'm sitting on the couch counting my blessings.

 My fingers bleeding crimson light.

 I am an open wound, festering and numb.

 Obstacles abound with a presentation that's plentiful and skilled.

 I remain on the couch.


Ray Strickland jr. April-1996

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