this morning was
a flurry of chopping
celery onion peppers
the ramones singing
dancing alone
preparing for the day
in a forced movement
of necessity draped
in longing yawns
i sprang up nude
unslept and undreamt
a twitching caricature
of restless ambition
aimless and gaunt
as the cobwebs buried
the sunlight in
dusty misapprehension
cutting vegetables
in furious slices
as everyone else
snored gently in bed
going at the speed
of manic light knowing
the wall is just around
one of these bends
but unable to slow
the slurry of anxiety
from every kind word
mistakenly given to me
because i know my value
is secondary to
everything else
so i prepare for a day
in which i will
fade away once again
forgotten by everyone
once anything else occurs
a ghost only lasting
as long as curious hands
rest on the planchette
dicing up vegetables
growing more translucent
onions sizzling in
a pan of olive oil

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