Virtual
shut-in
Don’t
bathe like I should
Laundry
weighs me down like an obese albatross
The
paralysis I feel each and every day continually breaks my heart as I distract
myself as best I can like Cleopatra or Rip Torn
Tropic
of Cancer another place I’ll never visit though I get where Miller was coming
from
People
say pull yourself up by your bootstraps to which I reply what bootstraps and
how can I pull when I feel so pushed beneath the loam
Dan’s
right this depression is making my writing red hot as my existence simmers on
the back burner and I want to get lit or burned up like a treasure seeker whose
lost their bounty and their will to roam
The
path I’ve carved out of pumpkin rind and old dreams isn’t doing much for my
self-esteem as the holidays like a death knell march toward me
Yes,
I have always placed creativity over survival and lately I’m starting to think
that particular skill-set has left the station and a roll of the dice no longer
favors the fearless
I’m
all out of steam, ramen and whatever else keeps a good man keepin’ on
There
was a time when I was full of piss and vinegar and believed my art would save
me or at the very least catapult me out of these doldrums
Now
I understand how much of a long-shot that is and I’ll sooner than later get
beaten down like Shepard and my other close friends who burned hotter than the
sun and were put out like a grease fire
Charles Cicirella
9/18/18
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