Worked Up! Poem by Troy Clark

I'm tired of pissing ash and fumes
tired of working up a sweat
when nothings around the river bend

No hope, cannot see the ever pungent
atoms that make us human anymore
cannot feel the elements against my brow

Nor do I see the ever present false light
but why, how
how is it I feel the truth in darkness

it's like a blister on my skin
a sore, putrid yet beautiful
as we are all in our own right

smelling of infection, feeling the same
yet there's no cure for a wet blanket
wrapped around ones dreams

and dream I shall, forever or never
yet still, but still, be still-I must not.
Not yet. Yet, almost there.