if i could choose one moment. what would it be?

a snap shot of colorful moments, the brightest

memory of that well traveled road – and it would not be,

that mindless hedonistic empty callous chauvinistic glass eyed

photograph. the life that everyone wants and that nobody wants.

is truly a mystery when it is the nods of approval when gestures

are made but the cringe on the inside wipes out a lavish display

when earned delight rots from memories replayed. the muscles twitch

even if the mind shuts out the colors, with a processor that works

backwards, the further you climb wrong, the further you have to climb

back right. it’s the irrational framework stacked on top of each other,

wobbly like jenga – waiting for an exit strategy though the wait has become

another ritual, like the pulling of hair, the biting of nails, the nervous cackle

realization dawns that it has been shut out. error code 404. the heart no longer

beats with silver droppings from birds flying high. they’re the residue

of this sea floating aimlessly, a wanderer in an endless tide that keeps up

with pretense. acid burns and soon the dull ache feels no more. and the good

friend waving about, the wave signifies no longer warmth, a departure

from firm bonds cut through. a hole larger than the gaping one at the top of

the mountain: spewing forth anger. red hot then cold obsidian. just a statue

reminding of what the still colors unmoving and an exit move waiting for what?

a change in an endless tide, going back and forth, a sickness that this too will

become part of the mountain, eroding, erodes to become that thick sediment

at the bottom, no longer pent up, no longer lashing towards the heavens. just

tepid, dead, forgotten.