Fuzznight
original poetryThe night absorbed me
Into the sort of dull reflection
One sees on an opaque metallic gloss,
Swallowed me and found me unappetizing,
But to display brovado, refused to spit me
Up into the blizzard cloud of waking life.
.
The scenes were commonplace to my
Lumber mind which became the palace
Of termites, wind whistling through
Fine channels, tickling neurons.
.
Was I supposed to be the subject
Of some gruff interrogation by
The erstwhile subconscious?
Or the object of admiration
For imps cavorting in
Groves obsure? No!
.
Neither was I silk environments,
(Though all the walls had eyes.)
The writhing creature spit me up
& I just groaned amidst its cries.
.
Was I rejected by the beast
That feeds on crumbling dross?
Did I become the hopeless stone
No jeweler'd ever dare emboss?
