virtual
spiritual
reject it all
just another ploy
to open up
get in
on the pristine bed
never rest
put to the test
a state of unrest
undressed
so there it goes
unwashed, dirty clothes
on the floor
flowing into the hallway
a whole lot more
an ocean
of untapped dreams
crusted half-truths
no spiritual relief
misguided, chided
watching out frosted windows
the roof
tornado like winds
creating little funnels
of chaos 
no phone calls
or thank yous
two shots later
of  Irish whiskey
seeing clearer
with alarming clarity
naked, seething
in front of
toothpaste spattered mirror
a reflection
sometimes  life
will never get any better
lost this ability to reason
already into another mad season
where life is wild
utterly black and gray
with streaks of vibrant color
to blind the way
related blood
quite alienated
escaping down freeways
always further south
static accusations
that flow from this mouth
a voice of treason
against all reason

mathiasthom
written 2/12/11