unwritten, still


iron sky and frozen breath

the pall-grey feathered blanket

Self-doubt casts over grassgreen newness

and fragments of me whisper

colored thoughts

to the sighing cobwebbed cortex,

laugh mercilessly

as I fumble for Reason

and crow

What now?

what except sit in this corner

and write misfit words

on the back of a page,

abandon all your pretend worlds,

pretexts and swallow,