It is no wonder

It is no wonder

The world is shot full of crazy,

I lie on the floor

Unsure how I got there.

It is comfortable enough,

It is my floor

Which grounds me.

The French doors stand open

The sky has fallen down

It is everywhere

Forcing its way in,

Full of rain.

There is laughter,

It is me

There are times when

Strange things happen

Out of sequence.

I thought it might be alcohol

One upon a wild time

It was psychedelics

But that genie is back in the bottle

Something has to be.

Flies buzz in the air,

Why are there always flies

Even when it’s raining.

The wooden floor

Has an even grain

Proof, if proof were needed

Of its inauthenticity

Everything has a veneer

Barely skin deep.

A Magpie looks annoyed

That I am alive

And close enough to touch.

Its beak has a cruel twist.

Crows would steal the air

From my lungs

If I let them.

I tell myself

Enough is enough

And crawl off to sleep

In the bath.

Not for the first time

I steal a line from Lennon.

I am so tired

The pain of depletion

Is always present

Even on a good day,

And today is far from that.

Vertigo tips the balance

Of fragility

The squeeze

Of bad faith

The worst of it

Is how to keep breathing

In the press of solid air

It is heavier today

Than ever it was.