Burn While Eaten Alive

You know it is only going

to get worse.  Sometimes, I wish

 

the Sanatoriums were still functional,

instead abandoned and decaying.  Drug

 

me up and set me in a chair with wheels,

in front of a window looking out at gardens

 

and at tree lines. I want to sit there in my silent

weeping life to watch it all burn over and over

 

again. Each time the flames burn higher

engulfing more and more until nothing

 

recognizable is left.  When I take the time to walk

into the bathroom, my shaking hands grasp

 

the white porcelain, so I can look plainly

in the dirty looking glass.  My reflection

 

is distorted.  My own eyes reflect emptiness

back at me.  The world has tapped me like a maple

 

having already been infested by Japanese invasive

beetles.  There might be a drop of maple left

 

somewhere in my veins, but hell if I know

where it is.  In time, the beetles always kill the tree.

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1 Comment

  1. Perhaps my friend if the tap is removed…new growth will initiate soon after the end of the sugaring season…the hole will cover with callus tissue and the sweetness will return…random thoughts.


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