Archive for April, 2015


April 27, 2015

to the insect in the jar
at the moment of its capture
there’s a sense of more than loss
it’s that life itself is fractured

a whole universe, its pieces
now distorted through the glass
a reality, uncertain
as the instant seems its last

for it has no way of knowing
by my hand, it will be freed
from what would have been its end
had i never intervened

though to me, it happens quickly
to the insect filled with dread
every heartbeat feels eternal
and it’s certain it is dead


that voice

April 23, 2015

that voice, my god, it’s boring
an endless monotone
so torturous
to each of us
it cuts straight to the bone

those syllables, like water
they deluge drop by drop
though dull and plain
they still cause pain
as they have yet to stop

a whining, droning, nightmare
composed of strange white noise
a sleep machine
whose set routine
inflicts as it annoys

whatever it is saying
its message has been drowned
the thought’s last breath
its throes of death
awash in all that sound

so here we sit, now waiting
for misery to end
an audience
whose common sense
that voice so long offends