Tryptich

I

I am nothing
no one will see me
I say nothing
no one hears me
I am ashamed
bestowing words on looping thoughts
but who will read them anyway?


II

I feel
I feel this way
to me it is all
there is my immense world
shame is meaningless it is this way it is
the flickering of my moods
smoggy sense of sadness
tsunami of panic
the cold ice cold blood of considering exits.

III

In my belly
a ball of insects
crawl over and under all over each other
brittle brown centipedes twisting crissing crossing
spiders pick up slow feathery digits
stick insects are crushed in the ferment
their legs pinging from their bodies becoming flotsam stems.


17/11/06