Tuesday, October 20, 2009


past tapes replay inside
my head; each whines
and grinds as I lie in
bed; TV and sleep, my only
reprieve; and I am unable
to still;
still, you’d call me silly
or a ninny, if you
truly knew how grueling
this cyclic whine
is; if only I were not askew;
if how I am were untrue;
if only a rewind was ever new.