[. ]

I am 37 minutes away from
D’s cinematographic certainty
of the onset of midlife crisis
I wonder if I ever thought
of this crowded loneliness
this endless string of stifling pleasantries
a panacea for “happily lived ever after”

This 18-wheeler of circumstances
overcasts the fleeting memories of azure
the ever-present invalid of time
tiptoes with its uneven arms
I rummage tousled thinning locks
I accept this inching tundra
One last time; before my coffee break ends
before I return to my caged freedom
I momentarily lapse into manna
of whispered wishes eons ago

From a million mile drift
[heard iceberg… of snubs decree dereliction… ]
I can now see your dazzling tinsel
the galactic depths of your hazel iris

One last dreg of this caffeinated messiah
the port, the criminal doings of my mind
die once more rather permanently

Frank Lisa IndiRa Francesca Roger Platt Cornish Martin

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/that-s-it-3/