This life is sliced in weary bits,
each lit up with flourescent tubes.
Before my head can fix a piece
it’s neighbor shoves, the first piece moves,
the conscious mind is soon confused
and something crawls up from beneath.

Once I climbed a proud and lonely rock
that leans like lovers lean to kiss
over a pool some thirty feet below
as if to quench it’s thirst.

The pool, the rock, my thoughts were flat, disjointed,
life seemed low and little use.
I turned, in turning walked out past the edge
and slipped, and drew a breath,
and all was drawn up in that breath and fused.