I will fail
I will break as if I were made of sand
my frame will fall apart like it
fell from a height onto
sharp rock my sanity
will be like the prayer beads tangled
into a knot and snapped and all
the stones will be rolling on the floor
like neon glass and broken shards that sit
in the etchings of bricks unseen except by the
person who sat and meditated in the same spot
every day every day and for five minutes I cant
follow deadlines they are too dead and too lined
instead of dead can they be live instead? and not lines but an
empty page can the shape of different words be read? can they be
spirals and can they progress like living things and grow
from thought into other thought can they
breathe and mature like a cheese or a wine but not french-
because french is not english and I need words. In English. I need words
now because time has its small sharp teeth piercing my heals and
the pain makes me lose focus and more time and this time. This time
and I cant
find words when I’m staring at the seconds pass and the seconds
are passing
They are passing now
this very second
I am a knot. This is
dread.
pandaplatter 