Deep within a core of rotten wire
tied in hundreds of little knots,
a dynamic torture tension,
like puppet strings from within
Forced pleasantries within the line
to the edges of a panic room,
scaling around a giant centerpiece hole
to a jimmied-up window board
Awake before the alarm
greets the day like a mourning song
Morning’s mounting heaps –
death and despair and uncertainty –
blurring perception of the moment
and mirroring the acid eating away
the guts’ core lining and structure,
or the labyrinth in the ear
MM 10/15
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