Like the earth is to gravity,
The magnetic pull hunkers down
On my shoulders,
Anchoring me in a sea of dreariness
Leaving me confounded to the murky waters of moral turpitude.
Like cloudy glass eyes –
Like cataracts on the elderly –
Like torrid rainstorms on a broken sailboat –
Like knots on a tightrope
The Struggle for balance a nuanced and shifty splattergash
Of subterranean flounce
Juxtaposed crippling portrayals and pastures of gilt.