Unparalleled fire
sparks a rare , diminutive light
on this murky thoroughfare .
And here I linger long obsessed
with searching through the brittle branches
of obsolete bones charred amid the acrid smoke
that curls and snakes from my nostrils
in slow , reptilian tendrils
as it meanders through my consciousness ,
curing my thoughts of any future .

I find my weather-worn hands
grabbing at the coarse , earthen road ,
taking up soil , rocks , and twigs , ripping loose fingernails -
just to keep this Self from slipping back ,
from approaching the past with the same petulant fury
that offers up the means to end this cheap soliloquy ,
forcing me to sing the praises of plain language ,
of a language that cannot transcend language -
or speak at all .

They would have me be dumb ,
sit idle and mute .

Yet , I flash forward -
a wall of water
and crash resoundingly
into a future
they do not want me to own .

exactly what I don’t even know . I don’t even have a name for it or an image of it. Okay , so maybe I do have an

Top 20 Psychiatric Prescriptions for 2007