The week has not been kind
My body has betrayed me
Perhaps I have betrayed it
No diagnosis is given yet
Just more tests, more tests
My body would rather commune with the doctor in this manner
We don’t speak the same language
You’d think I’d know what’s going on since I sleep and shit and encompass the same space
But my mind has decided to jam the radar and it’s not telling me why
It’s a police action, not a war
My Dr is the U.N. and the casualties are my words, thoughts and memories
There are no peace talks, I don’t even know the enemy
I lay on the couch in my shrinks office
Maybe she can translate
I almost lose it there, but I maintain control
Maybe I have been a totalitarian dictator not caring for the well-being of my subjects and this is their coup d’etat
I am told to distract, wait for the results DONT PANIC
And I collapse in the driver’s seat, driving home
I look at the 3 sets of eyes depending on me
I promise things I cannot give
I am scolded and my anger grows
I under siege I lack understanding
I’m losing my ability to communicate and I must forge a different path
So I do what I have done always, this goes down on paper or silicon circuits
Maybe it will all make sense one day
Maybe someone will explain it to me
But now all I can see is a mute pounding away typing out …—…, …—…
Kimo's Den Of Iniquity 