When days of distress
fell upon my head
without delay
from dawn to dusk,
then waylaid my brain
without hinder let
from dusk to dawn
a pure, sheer pointlessness
minus reasons or
regret
or cause, as though I’d
broken karmic law
or escaped by leap
some omen claw.
Or spent too long
forgetting that God
long forgot
just this gnawing
thought of sudden
sadness felt
from unknown spot
deep within
that told me gut of
truth of guilt
unsought.
And showing me why Odessey’s Ulysses along with friend and
foe alike conceived the locus of thought to be not head nor heart
but solar plexis
with cloudless night
