holding steady.™

An object of affection for mangy jackals,

A nest dotted with the blood that drips from their jaws.

I find myself shepherding a pack of camels,

In the sense that a drunk nurses a Corona.

Letting go is most natural, but holding on violates who I am.

I can’t deal with mental duress; my brain becomes saturated

Beyond the observable levels of peace.

I don’t know how to build an ark.

My imagination is purple & running, working down a sweat from cardiac arrest

He trips frequently over the baggage I leave at the door.

He fights to the death on a daily basis with my obsessions.

Thank God for the strength of imagination, or all would be lost by now.

The Census Bureau of my heart reports in.

After a mass dispatch, the results were being processed.

Apparently, I need to learn some self-control.

Maybe a little more wouldn’t hurt.