Sitting Duck
How I've arrived at such a vertiginous impasse,
Stranded in no-man's-land, with my thumb up my ass,
Waiting for death to surpass me, I can't say,
Nor should I be expected to speculate,
Given my limited skills, capabilities, will to succeed,
My feeble ability to stave off failure...failure to survive.
And yet, here I am, out in the open — a sitting duck,
All too aware that I'd be death's potluck supper,
If only I could be shot down, flying south,
Escaping toward warmer climes, the equator, safety,
Hoping to hide from my fate's fate,
Hide, for a time, out of time, in a place out of place,
A delusion suited for someone like me,
Who's lost his bearings, navigating death's flyways,
And finds himself at vertiginous impasse, thumb up his ass.
12/09/08 - (2)
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