Mest lästa ▸
Dave Bonta
going into the country
we land in a maze
the good life is admirable
but for the old and ill
even the half-moon
cannot fit in
grown every day
below in the cellar
I take a left,
And another,
I head straight,
And then a right,
A dead end staring back at me,
I try to retrace my steps,
Uncertain of where I’m going,
Uncertain of where I am,
I turn around,
And see open space,
Trying to recall my previous steps,
But my memory seems distant,
Hesitation then tossed to the side,
As I march forth with reckless abandon,
A look of determination fills my eyes,
Uncertain of the beginning or end,
Along the wires
That connect my laptop to the mutiple pins
That connect my mobile to its charger
That connect the speakers to its charger
That connect my camera to its charger -
Wires, looped, coiled, twisted, splayed like intestines pulled out -
Along the wires walks an ant.
It could be walking (?) through an unending maze
Entrance and exit confused
A path directionless, destination-less .
What is the ant looking for - food, I presume
Though I would like to fantasize
That the ant is searching for -
Meaning of life? Ho ho ho!
Through the haze of smoke that drifts up from the cigarette
I try to look at the way I am going, the whys and wheres of it.
It's getting bad again,
The feelings I had thought gone have resurfaced,
The thoughts I once had are back again,
And the way I view the world has once again become a blur of hatred,
A maze I'm just trying to escape.