Pardon me, sir.
Could you direct me toward the exit?
I seem to be lost in here—
oh...
You're just my shadow.
Well...
do you know?

(Shadow Sighing)
Of course, sir.
Follow me.
Right this way.
Mind the gap.
Mind the trash.
Mind the forty year impasse.
Mind the—

(Interrupting)
Pardon me, Sir
I was asking for the exit,
not a lecture—
oh...
Hold on,
there's a phone call.

(Shadow Waits)
I—think you have the wrong number.
Uh, Shadow, do you know a Jod—I mean God?

(Shadow shrugs)
Yeah. No. Sorry.
Uh, y—you have a blessed day, too.
So...

About that exit.
Wh—
Shadow?

Where'd you go?

I lost my work ethic
(if I ever really had it).
No more drive in me
to be a cog in society—
Builder, maker, creator.
Business owner, slaver.
Delusional entrepreneur
(You know who you are).

Burnout, failure, disgrace—
Never show my face again.
The career path ends.
Let’s just call it what it is-is:
mid-life-crisis-es.
I’ll pick up the pieces-es
and find...
ellipses.

I forage the grove,
or grave
of tangled thought.

Like a wild wood
what grows there,
was not planted.

Seeds are scattered,
thriving, but entwined
along the animal path.

The birdsong carries
a distant echo...

     memory...

       ...the detritus
          of what I know.

I'm very lucky
I've always had a family
In the back of my mind
I don't know why
I can't
Reach them

I've been a dismantler
Half deceiver
Wannabe wanderer
Part drifter schemer
That's just who I say I am

Really I'm so frightened
I've run so much from loss
That all my days I live in grief
For things I never had

Drifting further
That reach
stretches
But they're
still there.
My family.

That dragon's not my adversary,
That dragon's my most loyal friend.

Always there to catch me,
(Like the bottom of a well)

I descend,
and it's leathered wings curl
around my mind.

In that place
   I am fine.

   I am
      at ease.

(But it's not me.)

When allowed,
that spooling dragon wraps
into my consciousness.
It feels like bliss.

We sail through every fantasy
delighted by each novelty,
subtle and obscure,
permissive and demure.
That dragon purrs.

The sound,
a grating staccato,
withering heartbeat,
with a red face of glory.

I vanquish and devour,
but as I conquer I'm consumed.

It's too late to pull away.

The talons found their purchase.
The flames their tinder.
Ignition.


And once the ash has cleared
And all's laid bare to see...

That dragon's not my friend.
It's not my enemy.
(It's me.)

I can't stand that man's face
or ruined words of hate
but I'm really stupid now
he's all anyone talks about
I'm really really stupid now
my reaction is automatic
a dumb-en-ing numb-en-ing
strangling in my frontal lobe
his pursed words
******* rancid
into heaving, swarming,
zealous crowds
of barely individuals
who sup upon the fear
they self-righteously accuse
the other of.

I'm so stupid now.
I can't see.
I can't breathe.
but what I can do is
BLEEEEP
_ %&;! you  $#*!!!
$#%$ *&'
%$##*! I'll 5*@##$
**$%*# *
_
(continues...)