reality -- sobering and vital -- crashes like a tsunami,
feet akin to a half-finished foundation...
knees buckle, thrusting me into my plush, favorite chair,
with which i become one via a slump and exhale...

hanging on the fishing twine --
the metal lure claimed in my skin --
i dangle, attached by promises of a future, of success.
to this i am hooked,
line and sinker.

02/17/2002

Posted on 02/17/2002
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