Self-Portrait, Prose

A...medley of...
unconscious hum
graceful, tone deaf,
deafening.

All day's worth of thump -
of note, a headache.
bored of orbiting
a great sun.

To change trajectory
is to lose a place,
an etching on someone
else's epitaph.

I am not suited for
such consequence,
much sooner my own!
What is fate but

a bottle for my
fussy grumblings?
All in for the
reaping of persistence!

I'm stubborn to
sensation. The prick
and prod, push and
pull mean little.

Without water,
drowning - reinventing
the flail. The relay
to inhale.