Fry

By Cliff Lake

 

Fry

 

Disconnected,

And gone too deep.

The ideas go jumbly or

Fracture like slammed Jello or

Meld and mush into hot glaze.

Who needs drugs when you can disintegrate so?

What magnificent muddling!

A discombobulate of familiar actions.

Muscle memory mandate.

Coerced cognition confounded.

Foggy faculty fades.

Clarity cancelled.

Do not ask where the concepts have gone:

All of them kaleidoscope immediately,

Avoiding coalescence,

Demanding observance,

Achieving insubstance.

What meddles this mentality?

What careens this comprehension?

Can one seize a singular notion yet?

Can it be caught,

Considered,

Chronicled,

Catalogued?

Or are the myriad eddies to be?

Scrambled sensibilities,

Sodden smoke,

Slipping scraps.

Lassitude lingers,

Sleep is a reprieve,

Yet no release.

Am I yet bound by Morpheus?

Would that I were discharged from this swamp,

That I may worry more clearly.

 

Cliff Lake 12/10/2025

Copyright © Clifford Lake 2025

Location: Wichita, KS, USA

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