poem, poems, poetry, writing

Mechanisms turning in the widening gyre.

My body is built on them but most of them are hidden.

I don’t expect you to see them.

I just expect you not to break them.

The universe is a mechanism and sometimes I feel like a grinding gear.

So lube me up and give me a wind.

I’ll ramble down the street deaf, dumb, and blind.

Your smile is a mechanism turning the chains to my veins.

White and red cells race to every tip of my finger prints.

Soaking in Vitamin D and winking at the overcast day.

The energy never dies because this here is man powered.


I am the stars and the moon. I am

Also the sun that shines its rays. I am

The follower of society’s green gables. I am

The humdrum of my own heart thrum. I am

In the here and now, unless I am

On my IPhone. I am

Quickly brought back to reality by a horn blast and the angry gaze of somebody. I am

What I consume, sometimes it is more chemical than organic.  I am

There, I am

Here, I am

Complete, I am

Still building. I am

not always right, I am

Not always left. I am


In the Done Right Inn.

On the wall is:

My face and the world behind, standing backwards.

Graffiti in that reflected world reads:

Depression is living in the past.

Anxiety is living in the future.

Being at peace is living in the present.

Being drunk is just plain living (at the DRI).


2 thoughts on “Mechanisms

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