Numbing (a poem)

One more time straying from the month’s theme for a moment…

It hasn’t gone all the way down yet
there’s still sensation at the edges
the taste sharp upon my tongue
my excuses already made

I don’t build fires in my fireplace
I’m afraid of what I might burn
then regret the next morning
when what’s left is ash

The man on TV from 1975
would make me laugh
if I weren’t here alone
waiting for nothing

waiting for no one

waiting to go numb

(15 July 2016)