i read sylvia
in the mornings
to remind myself
there is beauty
in the world

i read hank
right before bed
so i know i am
not alone in this
teeming disenchantment

it’s easier
staying awake
all night long
angry with the
promise of joy

during the day
i do what i can
to numb it all
when her nimbus
has dulled down

seeking salvation
in the silences
defining a journey
headed nowhere
but an expiration date

tomorrow maybe
i will switch it up
read of horse races
and drunken whores
with my morning coffee

let sweet sylvia
have the morning off
from filling my head
with foolish follies
of whimsical beauty

but a fool needs
structure or risk
the anxiety taking over
as he dips between
manic and near dead