started the day in disparate paces
clustered in a rash
Things began.
Disconcerting reality stroke.
None of us had a way out.
I frowned. I trembled.
It’s getting colder outside.

words coagulated in framed narratives
where I hardly find a way in,
though didn’t put down conversing with them;
I hear their voices resounded
tensions as time terminated.
Scrambled in silence,
It's getting colder inside.

Seems every time I come here I see
another change to my beloved HP--
oh well, I guess I'll try to stick around
and hope my writes don't sink or drown
in this abyss of the unknown --
(which seems to be the here and now) --
I hope all my peeps are still here somehow
and hope too that everyone knows I still care
it's just so disconcerting to come here and stare
and wonder what the heck is going on here
Perhaps in time it will all become clear?# Ami

Abandon all hope ye who enter here.
Thats what she tattooed just above her *****.
Seems at least a little disconcerting....
Eh **** it.

They creep me out.
Those sticky-out veins in your neck,
the way they stretch like pythons’ tongues
as if they’re going to snap –
they’ll snap.
Like elastic,
they’ll snap
(just the thought …)

They creep me out,
the fact that they’re so FLESHY
and for some reason,
remind me of goats’ beards
and stringy turkey necks
(I don’t know, but,
just the thought …)

They creep me out.
I’ve got the weird feeling that
they could be snipped away by silver scissors
like loose threads.
They’ll snap.
Like elastic.
They’ll snap.
Stretching,
Stretching
(just the thought …)