. // THE INSOMNIAC'S CALENDAR. )

[sinensys]

the last coyote,
finally trapped,
bears its teeth
up
at its captor,
whose ubiety is
unknown.
the lip curls
in attempt to
dissuade the
trapper's towering,
but the unyielding hand
continues forth,
coyote cowering.
the hand approaches ever
nearer,
that vague omen
clutching
the coyote's calm.
how strange it is
to be threatened by a
thing which may not
exist ---
every reaching hand
taking
the upper hand,
its conquest fruitful
as the coyote
suffers.
there is no path
the coyote hadn't tried
to avoid this crooked
fate:
no external contact,
no backup plan to fall on,
no history to analyze for insights.
the coyote will
not
find a new way out.
the panicked wails
remain hidden,
agony enshrouded in
deceit,
as always.

(how my lip aches
from holding it
in a snarl.)

[sinensys]

i think it is the unfettered loneliness which gnaws at me most, its canid maw chewing on potential quips and phrases i might slip into possible conversations. now that i am medicated, my wit has become a little freer, the oil spill a little less heavy on the surface of my shores, but occasionally the waves still bring more from distant horizons --- once more i await the cleanup crew, and the weight of infinite words holds me within the oily waters.

i know soon the crew will arrive and that the waves will, at some point, also help: the foreign oil will stop arriving and the clean waves will push the oil out onto the shores, out of the water. while this will not fix it, it will allow me to wade out of the water to help clean up. as of now, i am helpless, ensnared by the oil and left to the coyote.

[sinensys]

the unseen weight of the coiling serpent drags me downwards again. i had hoped its ceaseless rattling of the vertebrae wouldn't disrupt me as much now that the shores had cleared, granting the reptile foliage to hide in, but once more i am left with the weight of disappointment. that crooked beast refuses to leave its familiar home within, afraid of the uncertainty of the shores and its tides.

[sinensys]

the downswing really does
bring you down,
and no amount of
manifestation
grants you energy to
claw your way back up
--- and so labrea claims
a new tiger.
i staved off the downswing yesterday,
desperately, desperately,
chemically and emotionally,
and it worked,
but today the pit will not
let me wade out so easily.
despite the recent social activity,
i still feel abandoned
and on the outskirts,
left to roam the edges of the pit,
a skulking mass,
hunting with unease.

[sinensys]

for but a brief moment,
the coyote's trembling
halts ---
that ill-seeking omen
abated.

in the moment i am left
alone,
the coyote quivers
again,
agitated.

in the presence of
others,
i am reminded of why
i chose their company,
of why
i choose to seek friendship.
in the absence of
others,
i find myself
dreading
the next encounter
with those very same
others.

the manifestation
swiftly summons
that ill-fated canid,
and for that i am
deeply sorry.

last week i outsmarted
a god.
today i could barely look
myself
in the eye.

[sinensys]

in boldness i am
rewarded,
and now my head
is filled with
warm thoughts
and cunning hopes.

[sinensys]

the wavelength
constricts,
that crooked boa.
i am left to
flounder
in the waves,
each attempt to
gasp
leaving my mouth
full of water.

[sinensys]

the shimmering wavelength,
so lofty and haughty,
accelerates before me
--- that wicked worm within.
how it writhes and twists
my days and nights
as it pleases.
no amount of impulse
sifting
settles the shimmering,
that fickle wavelength
eluding transforms and series
and beast tamers alike.
and left to this mouthless
device
beyond my understanding,
i dissipate into the
shimmering,
a pile of glitter to be scattered
and to cling
hopelessly
to whatever my hands
can reach
before the particles settle
within that self-scrambling
wavelength.

why do the subroutines
so carefully designed,
so carefully polished,
so carefully treasured,
choose to hurt and to fight
and to raise a hand against
the very thing that
houses
them?
what is it that i must
do
to realign myself
in good fortune
with that which steers
the vacant and haunting
thing which festers
within
and pulls on cords to
twist
my actions?

prismatic boa unbound,
stalking an insignificant
thing
which had never raised
a hand against it
--- for years it could
barely raise its
eyes.
what is it in
me
that such a being
could ever seek?
what allure is there
to find
in a bumbling creature
so focused on her
minute surroundings?
what space in that
skull
is so enchanting
that you must take up
residence?

the wavelength constricts,
and i grapple with it,
a rat refusing
the serpent's nature.
submission is not possible
in this endless game ---
am i to be toyed with
from behind my own
eyes?
for how long will i
be bound in
servitude
to that amorphous wavelength
whose intentions and whims
and cycles
are beyond my
comprehension?

[sinensys]

the prismatic boa unbound,
its crooked maw unclenched
and my crumpled form
released.
at last i am left
at peace.

(it is you and your
kindness
i thank for this.)

[sinensys]

the earthquake rattles
every piece of furniture in my house
i own,
and here
i am, breaking
every single bone in my body
i own,
catching replaceable dinner plates
from the china cabinets.