I Feel Chalk Hills Growing

I Feel Chalk Hills Growing

I feel chalk hills growing ...where my wings should be....
Barren lands where skeletons of fallen bones
Replace the foliage ..they are the geometry of me...
And I do not wish it

I do not wish my bones ....my skull and spine my frame and knees...
To bend in pulp-en ash
When out there it is uniform and crazed beyond the grasp.

It is enough
I breath on granite hills…near roots of manganese
Which springs up in the water well to shoots
its blackened darts into my organs
…that mess

I drain the black thru filters.. glare at it...
Drink wine instead of water…I’ve no choice..?

But in a dream ...the endless dream I have..where I can never
Do the prep for my exams...can never learn the lines for some rehearsal,
A dream stuck somewhere back in time in changing scenery...dark halls
And abstract squares of doom and introspection..and...
I lie in a tossing bed of sheeta ...so filled with dread of my inadequacy
That in the dream I soar beyond distraction into a form of tangled gut torn fear
That I shall reach the day and never know a word of it at all...
But in the dream time drags...on and on..and never comes...

And then awake and feel I must capitulate ....I am a sigh.

I tune the radio...sounds layered crackling and dull
One upon the other with empty licking at the stem
Of the catastrophe....
Shall we all burn because of this or that ...
Like the little pinkeen in the Dodder river
tired of life.

KB 2012