Adrift...

The audacity of your weak attempt,

The feebleness of the YOU in you…

I can clap hands, I can shout, I can walk out, I can laugh aloud,

At you...

And at myself.

My boat is adrift.

Thanks to the radio silence you supplied

On that weak weak day…

(Your patent analogy of Pearl Harbor mocks me.)

The dark signal that broke something….

That anchor for sure, and a lot of other things I presume...

A heart or half was also dashed I think….

The perversity of circumstances we say,

Or, lets call it of character.

The equivocator in you, the fool in me?

The generous waves call out

Time to abandon that shabby cloak

The stained abode

And drift away from agony…

To a sadder, clearer shore…