CRUSHED IN DIRER CHAIN
unsubtle arisings
entwine with despair
islands of agony
on a glassy sea of pain
strange desperation
beyond the norm
deeper tension
and higher stress
the clock hand sweeps
and days fall away
weeks slip by
without attaining
anything we so much need
we press at hours
but can not compact
any more into the day
so many things compete
to be the focus
of these minutes' time
so many demands
must be stacked and sorted
prioritized and made to fit
in discontinuous blocks
and moments stolen from sleep
were this but a perfect world
we could do the things
with harbor meaning
and never have to deal
with the world's demands
but this is a poisoned place
which terminates meaning
with extreme prejudice
we grasp at pasts
and seek to amass
by this collecting
some form beyond the self
which will have weight
within this world
and by that gravity
alter this spin
- Brendan Tripp
07/18/2001
Copyright © 2001 by Brendan Tripp
