Today is escape

from the barge of tomorrow—

hauling tragedy from the garbage

of fear.

Today is a surface. . .

frivolous laughter,

deep longing,

open desire

coming from the underworld

below the bones.

Today is a . . .

noun, driven off the cliff of

verb, secreting off with the moon,

silencing the stars in their

incessant scratching off the sky,

coloring noon the taste of the adjective—

a complete sentence.

Today is…

there simply is no argument,

except the mild dissociations

of mind over presence.

Today is two days,

the one we live,

and the other one of the mind,

in which we fear and drown

in the microcosmic shelters we endure.


© Andrea Mathews, 2014

2014-10-18 16.59.55




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