Raz
Bluelighter
You're always on the verge of living
Skating round that fish-eye lens
Where perspective distorts
And you wonder
Whatever happened to the man I was meant to be?
Where that question
Spins more each time it comes
A black snake chasing its tail
A worm that doesn't know its beginning from its end
You promised me poems
You chastise yourself
Even in self-flagellation
Grasping at the words of others
To feel something other than inadequate
Playing at substance
Using a stranger's art
To experience what you never had
And to mourn what you never were.
Skating round that fish-eye lens
Where perspective distorts
And you wonder
Whatever happened to the man I was meant to be?
Where that question
Spins more each time it comes
A black snake chasing its tail
A worm that doesn't know its beginning from its end
You promised me poems
You chastise yourself
Even in self-flagellation
Grasping at the words of others
To feel something other than inadequate
Playing at substance
Using a stranger's art
To experience what you never had
And to mourn what you never were.
