a sense of
detachment
similar to
god’s retina
leaves me
incapable of
seeing any
glimmer of truth
just blurred
images easily
mistaken for hope
in this cacophony
of silent screaming

facelessandtraceless
bombarded by billions
of ancillary illusions
deludedandintruded
i carve smiley faces
on my eyelids so
dissociation seems
a pleasant confusion

the ticktickticking
of the watch is grating
the constant pressure
keeping brass gears
clicking in a repetition
of toothless refusal
life is slipslipslipping
into the bottom globe
where i lay trembling
an unassuming assumption
bruisedandcontused as
gray clouds threaten to
wash away this illusion
in a torrent of loss