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Cigarrette Seppuku

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  • Cigarrette Seppuku

    Is it just madness?

    Words arranged from chloroplast and happenstance.

    Serendipity adheres to my ruthless clockwork;
    cog-empowered vestibule
    the earth-hewn terrestrial
    knee jerk reaction
    to rampant formalism.

    Stream-of-consciousness testifies as my witness.
    James Joyce in a psychiatric,
    mentally proactive,
    prison.

    Words words words
    are gateways to lucidity
    but I threw away the only key
    with my mental stability
    and desperate decay.

    I am the cigarette seppuku
    of every day
    that meant nothing and everything
    all at once.
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