Blow

 Old phrases reread, boom. Who I was then,

Harnessed. Perfect restraint, controlled.

Today, sleep peels back revulsion as avoidance clings.

Pages turn, little evidence left of mindset. Intentional.

This blockage is revolting.

Resistance is the counterweight

As horizontal momentum plumbs

Losing minutes to gluttony

As reform looms.

49, you unfit oaf.

Punch yourself in the face.

Uncork this period of lax and let it blow.

Fucking Let It Blow.

I do.

Day begin

Forcing typical pattern to take a hike. 

Into the wherever of whatever,

That most fantastic replacement word 

For, fuck you.

Friday craves a shucking

Of dead momentum.

Objects serving less than sentimental value

Need no longer be a prop.

Surveillance of a collected decade

Bring deadened noise,

And new motivation to dare.

Dare I chuck the muck that pretends to matter?

I do, 

I do.