The Pangs of The No Place

This is no place for one who sees clearly

No place for one who hears melodically

No place for one who breathes cleanly

And no place for one who feels

Anything

And it’s changing me.

In ways I will regret

Though I cannot refrain from

These changes seem unavoidable

Inevitable

Though maybe correctable

The darkness used the tools of

The blurring of time

The taming of repetition

And the terrorizing threats of alienation

To sew us into a fowl quilt

For whatever it so desires to smother.

And what beasts we’ve become.

I’ve seen

As we wrap each other

Just to keep it off of ourselves

With amusement streaked across the crows feet our eyes

Which only feeds it

Which only darkens us faster, deeper.

This is no place

No place to find future.