Lost in thought

Iron straps of memory bind me now to the ferrous wheeling place I stood when first I beheld the future that awaited my futile attempts to resist its relentless pull toward an unknowing unseeing blank void of sodden folds of winding sheets impenetrable to the razorine shards of hot sulfurous light heliographing ambiguous messages furiously off the glazed and glistening surfaces of a dawn too fractured to bear the weight of further hermeneutic efforts to decode the meaning of texts overburdened by tropes inherited from dying cultures grown cold and moldy in the vapid context of social metastasis rebounding rapidly from remission amid the detritus of dreams careening madly toward ecstatic embrace and fulfillment of desperate desires inflated ballooning straining to rupture and release tensions carried high in the back yet low enough to know better than the last generation’s hopeless dance of hanging sentences of death do us part fantasies promulgated through the indifference of a lost people searching endlessly for the exit from which no human intention could emerge without scathing raging fury aimed at any and all who might dare to dare. As I recall, I walked home alone.