is like butterflies fluttering
like erratic,
victory at sea surf
like something in my throat
like an old foe,
whom I never defeat
is like weight pushing
down on my arms and shoulders
like a swell passing through my chest,
in waves of heat and cold
like a trigger to end my focus
a distraction that lasts
hours, days, months
then it fades and things
are normal
I forget it
until it's triumphant return
and I'm reminded of it
again in my throat
my gut
my shoulders
and the back of my knees
it is like an uncertainty
like hunger
like a post youth -
existential hangover
it is anarchist
and sly
faceless and with no scruples
it is effervescent yet invisible
it is always there
beneath the surface
like a razor sharp reef
ready to cut
when you least expect

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Perfect! Well done old boy, well done.