I stumble barefooted through green grass illuminated in darkness
to the playground – a playground indeed
(the irony is overwhelming)

nevertheless I wrap warm fingers around the cold linked chains
of an extremely lonely swing
and try to ignore the spinning in my head
the spinning of my life
in circles always stopping in the same place
if it bothers to stop at all

and I slide down one yellow plastic slide
or could it have been blue or orange or red
but my memory is sending me very strong yellow signals
yes – yellow it is, glaring in the reflection of the moonlight
I slide into soft, cool sand
(once again the irony is pointedly overwhelming)

and I dare quote Tennyson in a slow, haunting whisper
with no one but the looming greenery and ghostly vast fields
to hear the slightly off tone in my voice
a lady in waiting imagining herself floating down a quiet river
only the sound of night birds skimming the slightly still waters
confident that things could get worse
and clearly doing something about it…

when I skip (not out of happiness but out of the lull of moonshine) up the dusty payment
my body and mind disconnect, separate without my immediate knowledge
My quiet, tolerant existence reaches a strikingly blunt dead end
And I explode, vibrant colours (you can see them all the way from the highway)
And I numb, shell shocked
Attempting to ride out the disaster of me

07/28/2003

Posted on 07/28/2003
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