Lost Soul in New Jersey

I feel a dark cloud approaching.

It's out to kill me

It's out to get me

hooked on

marijuana and

rum.

It's out to make me melt

under the fire.

It's out to crumble my

fragile soul.

It's out to tear apart my

loving heart.

The truth is out now, bare and raw

and soggy with innocent bloodstains and

uneaten candy bars.

I can see it clearly

like a blue sky.

The truth is slicing off my limbs,

severing the nerves, drowning in

numb graves and

still waters.

 

It becomes hollow and I can't

see the sunrise through the

city smog.

It's dead like me.

I think God murdered it himself

and liked the sensation

of taking away

the soul.

Reviews

[Kees Kapteyn]

Serious disaffection in this poem; no metaphor but strong visceral imagery. It's the starkness of reality, its unforgiving nature. It's out to get us- but we can't let it get us. We stand inside it, but can still move through it and see through it for what it is.