"Tracks"
Writing prompt with Pamela Mendoza:
There's a large rat in my kitchen.
There are numerous roads
but not all can be crossed.
You trespass others.
Numerous acts are not allowed!
Numerous wounds!
It is dark. I carry a dying torch.
It takes too long.
A lengthy journey.
My room's a mess!
Where? How? When?
Meaninglessness?
Nothing!
Where? When? How?
Come! Left! Halt!
Forward! Right! Walk back!
Meaninglessness-
with "mean" as lexical unit
that also sounds like the term
to denote cruelty or evil,
I just realized.
The previous revolution subsides
while I wait for the next to come.
But in between
is the most grueling portion.
Nothing is emerging.
Nothing changes.
I do not notice
because I'm busy searching for direction.
Where? When? How?
How? When? Where?
Not all roads are free.
Rabid dogs stalk me
with confused minds
and sharp fangs. ***
