BTRIPP (btripp) wrote,

Oh, look ... POEMS ... seven of nine

Oh, did I mention that we're broke? Yeah, it's starting to hit home that we've tapped everything and are now in the big blank area downhill towards January (when I will HOPEFULLY be getting hired into some sort of a paying job). This has been hitting home hard the past several days as we are trying to plan a Birthday party for Daughter #1, and pretty damn near every option is coming up as several hundred dollars ... that we don't have. Hell, I even gave a serious half-thought to doing a Chuck E Cheese party, just to have the per-kid cost minimized. This really sucks, since she's turning 7 and these are starting to be IMPORTANT for her. Bleh. Sometimes I think things would be better if I was just a memory and a paid-out insurance policy.

                    A MELTING FLUX WITHOUT ARRAY

                    set apart,
                    the mundane flow
                    slides around
                    a rock in streams
                    rushing regardless,
                    that we are lost

                    the markers tumble,
                    fall to incoherence,
                    we can not sort
                    the months from days,
                    the hours from their weeks;
                    all a miasma,
                    dark and thick and vague
                    in which we're so enmired
                    still the juggernaut
                    does not cease,
                    it grinds along
                    converting being
                    down into dust,
                    crushing dreams
                    and hope and prayer
                    into anguished despair
                    the weights amass,
                    no sense or meaning,
                    just down and down,
                    ache piled upon pain;
                    gravity's descent
                    into lower states,
                    unable to stand,
                    unable to breathe

                    spun out of life
                    into a vagueness,
                    we find ourselves
                    unable to align
                    to unseen grids
                    sensed in motion
                    a melting flux
                    without array

                             - Brendan Tripp

                    Copyright © 2002 by Brendan Tripp

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