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A Trip On the Plane of Existence

I’ve enjoyed writing for many years. I'm dedicating more time to the craft in my retirement days.

In another life

He is this arrogant guy

He has and uses

A megaphone

A cheerer’s cone

To make it known

How very good he is

How much he has done

How far he has come

From the simple man

He once was

He started out as

Then as days pass

Laudings amass

And he believes the hype

Buys into it

Takes it onboard

Uses it like he owns it

Rides it like he stole it

He comes out the other side of the tunnel

A completely different guy

And he doesn’t know why

He doesn’t like himself

Still can’t help himself

And don’t help others, neither

Or nor

And what’s more

He doesn’t know what he was like

In that other life

The one he runs from

Changed from

The man he’d become

And now he runs

From himself

Down the alley

Bumps into a wall

Feels the bricks

Scratch his palms

His fingertips dig in

And then begin

To bleed

As he scratches

And claws

To escape the maw

The black whirling hole

That took his soul

For the unending ride

Drug him down


Brought him here

Drove him here

Dropped him off here

Wherever here is

And he’s not making a dent

In the bricks

Or the mortar

But the blood drips down

Hits the ground

Red drops splash on his toes

Copper smell in his nose

Crimson Rorschach on his feet

He wakes to find

That it’s cold in his room

It’s almost high noon

And he’s been sleeping

Since early last evening

When he was reading

Something wicked

About a guy

Wanting to live

Another life

In a parallel universe

Until he laid down beside his mate

In the foxhole

And slept

The eternal sleep

In their small stretch of trench

As the shells exploded

And lit up the night sky

Shattered the earth

So no red wiggler

Would stay in this land

Despite ample supplies

Of decaying, lifeless matter

A window pane shatters

And he wakes again

Looks down

At the megaphone in his hand

Author Notes

I was looking for a way to have my thinking and inspiration depart from the so-called "box", so I googled something like, "poetry prompts" or some such and I came upon this website. The prompts contained on this blog page are many and varied, so I just kind of scrolled down until something reached out and grabbed me. It was #33, "Parallel Universe," that did it. I then did a couple of 60-second drills where I just wrote as fast as I could until the timer beeped. The first of those drills produced the first six lines or so of this work. I then spent significantly more time taking this to the place I wanted it to go. All in all, it was a fun and productive exercise, and I am happy with the finished product.

© 2021 greg cain

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