Shadows Addressing Empty Chairs

Your face contorts in a twisted effort Plaintive in non-decorous reverberation A terrain around a pair of distant orbs Lost in extemporaneous consternation To ward off the fear of unwanted evanescence Upon the wanton revelation Of a day you wish had never existed Tremors beset a set of fingers While the mind steadies the hand that lights A random electric cigarette to calm the nerves That being the fact of how you face facts Always taking an indirect approach Which has led to the current page of fate And the smoke from nothing rises Of nothing, to nothing, vaporous memories Images of shadows addressing empty chairs Avoiding the real elephants in the rooms Treating image as symbol pointing to symbol God is a symbol of God type thought Abstractions that shy away from syllogism The twisted logic of counter-inference This may not be what you think it is (Depending who you are and where you stand) But you will fall back into your own constructs And reconfirm the calcified habits of defection In tandem with the anthem of rigorous rejection Of all that follows a labyrinthine trail of thought And seek out digressive thought patterns A complete refusal to sit on concrete And count the chips on palm of hand Daydreams of consummate approaches Please show me a thigh; I mean, a sign Followed by a sigh, of the kind That follows such frames of mind