Double Yellow Line

A new fountain

to gather round

a new well

from which to draw up a bucket,

lower it down

pull up water for your life.

So a gadget saved me,

what of it?

You have not even been saved,

you laugh at my attempt to die

I laugh at your attempt to live

but you are dying

and deny it

or do not know it

a sickness rooted in ignorance,

there’s more shame there

than with me.

I cannot sleep

the moon is bright

the television smiles for me,

I cannot think

the words don’t mean

what i once thought they did,

I cannot focus

outward or in,

where do I cast my gaze?

I’m walking down

a double yellow line

it straightens for miles

till the sky meets the road

I cannot see the end.

The field, the street, I walk

and think myself into a culdesac.

These thought patterns

all cornfields in a maze.

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