Two-hundred and Ninety-three: Underwater

I’m swimming with the fishes
in a midnight ocean,
watching bioluminescent wishes
tease as I
grope hope with my octopus eyes.
I’m hooked on coral faith laced with crazy
(though Mama told me not to use that word).
They all wonder what the pebbles spell,
but when I try to speak, to shout,
words fade, and bubbles slither out.
Before, my tongue was an electric eel,
but now it is heavy,
with all I do not feel.
It’s like God asked me to draw a picture
and I gave him an ink blot.
I’m not sinking
but each thought is a bullet
shot underwater.



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I drink, I laugh, I smoke, I write.

12 thoughts on “Two-hundred and Ninety-three: Underwater”

  1. I’m back at WordPress and so happy to see a poem from you. 🙂 I love the imagery of this poem; it conveys a lot of feeling but at the same time isn’t lost only in that. The imagery complements everything you say. I really love this 🙂

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