The Swamp

A swamp of plastic mediocrity
Sucks at my ankles as I try to leave it
I would fly and float above it all
But I see the blood spurt with each tether I would cut
The proximity of forgetfulness terrifies me
I cling to each piece of flotsam and wait for rescue
I flail desperately against Lethe's current
Or is it my own nature that opposes me?
-- May 22, 1993, Boulder, Colorado
copyright © 1993, 2005

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