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Intersection of delerium and dementia July 18, 2008

Posted by vsap in Blogroll, Poetry.
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The weather is like a relentless flu fever pushing

discomfort from feet to knees to back to head.

Is it the heat or humidity, I ask myself for amusement,

pleasure is not easy to find, cover, too, alludes me.

Traction is elusive as it is evocotive, on this sand

that knows no solid ground, that rain bounces off.

I try to remember what wise men have imparted,

after losing my sense of time, my sense of place,

my sense of smell, where it all smells the same,

moldy, as if it were pursuing me, insisting on me.

The intersection of delerium and dementia

no where near a nursing home, not even close to a line of cocaine,

and someone asks where I’m heading and there’s no answer.

What could the answer be? What was the question, again?

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