No Release
When my words are all fluffed,
and lazily unlikely to follow,
I need the cloud on my mind,
to tug me from the shallows.
Piano and gentle guitar drops,
train my raining thinking swirls.
The parts and screws I've worked,
still loosely bind my rusting world.
Day backs off while still mocking me,
managing equal parts grimace and grin.
Lines drawn down and out of my places,
straight in my middle and off the fringe.
Way away and it's work getting home,
the commute cures notions of relief.
Imagined comforts too dusted to see,
arrival of the someone with no release.
EaS
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