Thread: Missing in Madison

I animated them with names,
guests lodged in my insomnia,
dense with infection spread by nonsense
conveyed through a patois of our own.

Embracing vertigo inked in Escher zeal,
tentative step to slightly more energetic step,
mesmerized by the depths my twist of stairs could fall.

Bottomed, ghoulishly exhausted,
I pushed myself hard on lorazepam-

the sleep was memorable and eloquent;
my guests discussed the charm of a chopping block,
with such elegant threads of braided logic
I was happy to lend them a limb to chop.

Later, shuffling through my records
for an auction that went unregistered -

a second hand produced the ledger
and with a pen filled in its name.

Interesting. It reminded me of a drug induced sleepless night down a rabbit hole. Quick and quirky, I enjoyed the ride.