The · Word · Pirate

A dull inward pressure forms in my head
my brain feels contained
by some inner hollow--
a vacuum awareness, a wracking lack
of purpose,
a momentum flying off the track
suddenly lost, out of contact with the ground.

I hear it without sound - a spring snapping unwound
the metal confused by vanished tension
a former coil finds itself a line - undefined

I shake I swoon I find and force a grin
I grab at a wavering willowing end

and begin to bend
and wind.