Moments like these when you feel adrift:
you're here; you're not here . . .
your life . . . a novella . . . or flash fiction . . .
soundtracked by dissonance
as if beguiled by harpies
in the palms of pallbearers . . .
You wake with the urge to use
the phrase in the know . . .
As misdirection, perhaps? . . .
Consolation? . . .
You enter the fray
disabling the tried and true
with the words of oglers
vying for redacting . . . and blueness . . . again . . .
Which would you rather be? . . .
