In a Dimly Lit Elevator

I have left my notebook behind me, again Pages of nakedness between bright covers. There are readers of minds, Subtle and powerful, Who control these corridors. And yet I have lasted five years. The numbers of the floors flash, And this dirty darkness Opens like a book. – Michael Graves


The World’s your enemy, you sigh. Against its stiffened prick, You, like a wildly rearing stallion, Kick. Although you call yourself corralled in it, I see you on your back, Victimious, Cradled in the lies that keep you sick. Sigh, kick. Your delusion’s walls are thick. Your persecutors powerful and Psychic.