July 2014
To You,
Quiet acknowledgement of self
awareness interrupted
by fevers of stimulation.
I'm riding this cosmic metronome
with unyielding momentum
to and fro between
where I should and shouldn't go.
The place in-between
a mystical middle
with proper allotments of all things.
It's glimpsed in passing
like that highway sign I miss
and huff, "God damn! I'm lost."
But even in fear propelled
to search for signs
as the metronome sounds
increasingly like typewriter chatter.
My story's being written
one letter at a time.
Your Friend,
A
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