the pit

Sorrow drips like molasses
Between the cracks
Of rotted, knotted
Plank like dreams

Boredom leads me over the edge
To the vipers, the pit
A sea of sharks squirming
And oozing over each other
In a spastic orgy

Numbly, I fall into the foul stench of
Vomit, septic tank, and fly media
Only slightly stimulated
By the thought of being
Torn to bits
I fall and am ignored

BD 1993