Curl Into A Ball [rev] Poem by Margaret Alice Second

Quietly morose & almost comatose I
read: ‘Life's about decline.' I'm out of
alignment & moving towards a feeling
of total despondency and I admit I'm
terribly, disastrously disenchanted

Elijah, here I come, move over under
the broom bush & Ecclesiastes also
make room for me to remain in deadly
nihilism - I'm too tired to fight against
windmills - I'm tired of cutting the air

Stuck in thorns and barbed wire, my
body is torn to shreds and I register
only pain in my head; no power left
to do something to change my life
into something more meaningful

Let me pull in my mind and curl into
a ball to deal with lonely emptiness
in my own way…