Archive
12/09/08 - (2)
Sitting Duck
How I've arrived at such a vertiginous impasse, Stranded in no-man's-land, with my thumb up my ass, Waiting for death to surpass me, I can't say,
Nor should I be expected to speculate, Given my limited skills, capabilities, will to succeed, My feeble ability to stave off failure...failure to survive.
And yet, here I am, out in the open — a sitting duck, All too aware that I'd be death's potluck supper, If only I could be shot down, flying south,
Escaping toward warmer climes, the equator, safety, Hoping to hide from my fate's fate, Hide, for a time, out of time, in a place out of place,
A delusion suited for someone like me, Who's lost his bearings, navigating death's flyways, And finds himself at vertiginous impasse, thumb up his ass.
12/09/08 - (2)
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