July 17, 2019

Experts call me in to tell me

The passage to my heart

Is pathologically narrower,

Ability to take on more

Tied to walled-up tension,

Resistance nearly harrowing.

I'm signed up for another stint

In the hopes of illumination

Of a cleansing so thorough,

But I must eliminate

The nuggets in my throat

To avoid repeating ad infinitum.

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Analysis of my adversaries

Captured in this ledger

To degrees fantastically narrower,

A feast of follies to be avoided,

Especially in moments of weakness

Masking a darkness of sorrow.

To live through the battle, a shunt

Leads me away from the bursts

That riddle us with terror,

If I can only liquidate

The truthful grains I pick through

Or the pork produced from my farrow.

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As I grow old, the world

Sees me looming larger,

When inside I'm waxing narrower.

This juxtaposition of seen, not seen

Means no one is the wiser

When the wire acts as the arrow.

Send up the balloon,

Make sure its judged its path right

'Cause there is no room for error.

I have no doubt that

At the end of this fight,

I might do better tomorrow.