| RA's AJ ( @ 2008-01-02 23:59:00 |
| Current mood: | better |
| Current music: | holiday chimes from my open window |
| Entry tags: | fatigue, paresthesia, poem, write |
Tuner
Between stations, my muscles'
Jagged vertical intensities,
Each distinct in their areas.
Weather roams settings
Dialed idly, turning toward what
I don’t know; can’t say.
Overall: Sagging, slowly melting,
Though interior’s a jumble.
Some pull, all power, sings to me
Like an A.M. lullaby
Early in the tired time
Of premise and preparation
And a question of power:
Can I? Should I? Will I
Get away from this lethargy
And subtle soul-letting?
Lullaby dulling, its catchiness
Contagion to courageousness, killing.