Waking Eyes Poem by RIC BASTASA

you cannot name

what does not exist out there



you will never know

what is inside: the storms that you cannot fully feel

because there is no name yet still to call it

the rage within that you write about

but which none of them has ever seen



you thrive on this

solitary confinement of a soul

which they read in every word you say

but which they discuss with myriad

interpretations


they cut one head of your dragons

another one grows

but you still master all these

to every pill that tames the wildness of your

waking eyes.