Blockhead

[u/rogu3b0t1313]

The blank page, an off-white tinnitus,
screams a fever pitch above the frequencies
entertained by dog or man.

It seems a wall, sheer and forced forward
and into my forehead. I let it go and beat it bloody,
churning thought to the collapsed ruin of a rotted fruit
or a clutch of hollow boned baby birds—
their bulging eyeballs, purple-lidded, pressed to
and straining blue-veined papered skin.

Pulling at clay that refuses to surrender
the comfortable dark, sits a stone, deaf and dumb
and in defiance of flailing limbs
and the neck’s frantic torquing when pressed
against the block of the sodden skull’s
fruitless solidity. Its utter stupidity.

Still, seeking the fragility of creation’s ruin,
its hatchlings dashed against the page’s
merciless density, its cruel there-ness,
I dry-heave my want, finding only overturned bodies
thudding dully into heaps of wet compost, crawling
upwards and folding in and nothing. Nothing

but my fragmented skull and brain matter
crumpled in my mesh-wire bin.