Churn Poem by Nicholas Alahverdian

a stormy sea, forever churning and
stirring my memories.

black, like a burnt grove
i swim and swim, releasing
my thoughts which you consequently capture.

you paint by number
and determine the chaos
ensuing to determine the next pandemonium and severity thereof.

virtually destroyed, i gasp... i sink in your daunting mock water...
i reach and grasp, reach and grasp
and drown in your perpetual bleak
sea of despair and blind authority
of canceled holidays.

i never sleep.
nightly, i drink in your fog and
pretend to be an ark.
my thoughts forever diverted
and soaked in your paint.