Saturday, April 27, 2019

Dried Blood

Nose started to bleed tonight
Stress of the world affecting me
Atlas shrugged and chunks of blood reminded me I’m human

It was right before the bonus round on Wheel of Fortune
Started feeling more like Ratso than the Raging Bull
Midnight cowboys call out to me in a restless sleep and before I know it DoorDash is at the door and I’m unwilling to own up to my order history

The small stuff is bound to kill each and every one of us before the big stuff even makes a dent
We must withstand the grinding ineptitude of it all because there’s no God pulling our free will strings and justice for all is a flagrant lie
Leggings are okay, but I miss jeans and the kernel of truth in their tight exit strategy

Stand up tall, even and especially when you are a person of small stature like me
It’s not about over compensation, but instead about the strength of our music festival characters and how much of a shit we’re willing to give when we’re reduced to shitting in a bag
Hit the road hard, stick your thumb out on the side of the endless highway and never forget when Neal did this the counter culture was still in its infancy

I stared up at the ceiling and pinched my nose to stop the blood from flowing onto my Beatles tee-shirt
Everything is taking its toll and if I don’t get stoned soon my pathological complacency will replace whatever power I once possessed
Tell me a story, any story to keep me awake and from zoning out because the poetry is my DNR and these words are my funeral procession

Charles Cicirella

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