Toothache

The drumbeat heart in my brain,

Pain, Pain, Pain, Pain . . .

I follow its path,

through the maze of my body.

One little nerve is dying,

and in that death drives

the cold flickering pulse

of the drum stab noise

that smothers my other songs

Pain, Pain, Pain, Pain . . .


I guess you can figure out the way my day is going.

This entry was posted in All part of the process, can't really complain but, paying attention, poetry and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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