with lackadaisical regard
i watch as they dwindle
one by one
and sometimes two
or more
i never formed
a reason to rhyme
until time descended
upon me
like a pornographic impulse
brew me another cup
of disillusionment
while you’re at it
that last one
nearly fit the bill
sometimes
i wonder if i actually will
or would
or could
of course,
there is no question
as to whether or not
i should
though i am
but a coward
in uncomfortable skin
i’ve worn out
since the day
the world informed me
as i swallow
more
to boredom’s pallor
like a Fuller Brush Man
in a town inhabited
by ghosts
where nothing hearkens
but the silence
that consumes me
as a void that lay
between two mirrors
spared of my own completion
Max, or Not 
You must be logged in to post a comment.