Detached

becoming detached

my head hangs by a thread

with calm and unshaking hands

I hastily glue myself back together

before my circulation ceases

and I collapse, without life, on the floor

 

unfortunately I miscalculate the aftereffects

and now have a ring of overconfidence

assorted drips of superglue adorn

and stick to various parts of my anatomy

 

now, disfigured, I wear a shroud

and hide myself away in a monastery

with all the other crossdressing fools

keeping my beliefs in a bag in a side drawer

remaining detached from all that life represents

 

 

Copyright July 2017

 

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