Interior Shell Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Motion being propelled by rhythms of a live band,
playing right before me, lapsing into a daydream
dressed in a nightmare's haunting stares.

Finding the stance of a righteous pilgrim, taking
me into the reservoir of life's intense atmosphere
finding no beginnings only endings.

Tell-tale signs and omens penetrating an interior
shell, giving all types of individual parodies by
which to follow through a back door.

Racing and stepping backwards, turning and twisting
into the solace of another time, taken aback by the
instrumental tastes of life.