O-Le-Coma City Poem by Tony Jolley

On the leading edge of life
Where the world no longer turns
And the Sun neither rises nor sets,
Where even Time is held 'on-hold',
His hourglass grains frozen in freefall
Upon the bitter cusp of Forever;
There slumber the grey, unwaking shades
Of that other world
That lies within, yet without, the Land of the Living:
Those silent citizens of sad O-le-Coma City;
Immobile flesh and blood,
Unwilling or incapable of movement:
Some from shock;
Others from falling into an auto-hypnotic sleep
Where the magician-self has 'gone under' too –
Both now lost in depths far beyond the reach
Of the emergency services of consciousness;
Souls incarcerated in personal prisons of perfect inertia,
Dreaming unknowing,
Or silently screaming
To be let back into their own life
Before it passes them by.

Miracles sometimes happen in O-le-Coma City:
Some find their way back.

No one knows why.