Tuesday, February 23, 2010

Simile 3

1 comment:

Dr. Mike said...

Comfort Zone

When a mattress is too soft.
The body sinks, smothered
By both sides of the feathers.

The spine is wrenched
Out of its coccyx, and the sleeper
Arises contorted and confused.

Saints slept on marble floors
And shamen on horse blankets,
The better to awake upright and straight.

When everything is made available
At the flip of a switch, or the snap
Of fingers, then all mystery dies.

Life without mystery
Misleads everybody into believing
Only what is here and now really matters,
And that we can control whatever happens.

[Disposable Poem February 19, 2010]
Dr. Mike

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