a poem for today

a poem for today, 8 January 2012

[a syllable-sorted sonnet of eleven sentences and its image] 

It's kind of scary to be hopeful.

You got one of these that does asses.

All consciousness is consciousness of.

Half of what I say is meaningless.

The morphine barely takes the edge off.

Keep talking but don't use any names.

I guess I've always lived upside down.

Your buccal cavity is your mouth.

Reading only caused me misery. 

These words are almost like animals.

I can only think of myself as existing, and as existing the way I exist; thus, I cannot but exist, and always exist as I exist now.