Turns

The next what, turn?

My mind shows a corridor
laced with evergrey edges
a platter of decisions
handed out at doorlets
each closed with echoey BANGs
Me cringing at shoulder pillows
chirping at cerebells
seeking answers called Round
in the inbox

Memory's invoice
without a real tone
unsteady to remember the way
down the routes unknown
the corridor's marrowless bone

A one dimensional stick
why no more forks, branches,
myriads of opportuna-mix
swimming with the fins dancing with the tail
breathing with a lung-full of gills

A bag full of thrills
23 year old's popping
periodically prescribed pills.
Limiting.

the future a blank cheque
sure to bounce
if I dont turn next
at the next
at the next
or
at the next;
the next what,
turn?
My Turn


as I lie awake in bed thinking about which way

Raj Arumugam
good imagery and unique style, jinjahman

Kerry O'Connor
Confusing...but then it's supposed to be, innit? I love the image: 'corridor's marrowless bone'. You do come up with some beauties.

oldchampagnelady
Sounds as if you write about a troubling and recurring dream that I have.