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Sunday 5 January 2014

inflection of someone else’s accent (2000)



Roots.
             Stone.
                        Petrified.
            Roots.
Limbs reaching for yesterday’s incoherency
I sit and abuse my mind

which looks to youth,
and seeks lifeline to yesterday’s despondency
in its obtuse hunger to find

the
            sluggish
                        yesterday.
                                          Roots
petrifying, a wrecking succubal legacy
which loosens my surge to blind

future. Though horrified,        mute
hymnsinging    for      tomorrow’s     cruel   ecstasies
sees fit to                     seek                struggle           inside

            with the overloaded                heart                 burning                      to
 balance
             these                                  bizarre unpowering           crimes.
    And though a                      painful                 reduction
and reminder                       of     this              human        shell -

it             will  

            succeed.

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