Poem-A-Day: Day 246

One to Delve

Pound one, two, twelve,
out, right out of mind
into a transcendent journey
capped with experiences most audible;
don’t stop believin’.
The cape a flannel robe,
maybe terrycloth
draped around shoulders and arms,
but full frontal opened
like a butterfly spreading wings,
ready to fly,
ready to take off
and leave the cape flapping in the skies.
Despite the grandeur,
the transcendence ends abruptly
under the calm resolve of cleansing rain
and bitter reflection;
forcing the day to move forward,
for time to slip by
sheltered in metal coffins,
tombs spewing exhaust,
exhaustion by the end of the day,
and then pound one, two, twelve,
out, right out of mind
into a journey of inferiority,
a complex clockwork movement
spinning out of control,
and crashing into the death of sleep
before hopelessly waking.