It's easy to get out of the habit of updating blogs. I must have visited a dozen in the last few days that had been neglected for months if not years. so today I will add an abstract poem! It's one of many I wrote during a period of deep personal crisis. I destroyed most of them later, because they were more cries for help than literary compositions, but I kept a few quite lyrical ones. Nothing is completely black all the time; a chink in the blind can let in the light!
The words are crowding my mind
but the phrases are stuck in my throat
Your voice on the telephone
sounded like grated cheese
I have stopped asking myself questions
When I raise my head from the page
I see you standing there
like a fata morgana with folded hands
waiting for the desert sand
to swallow you as you swallowed me.