To let myself
forget, and drift
slowly down,
away from all
that matters,
further and further
from what I need
but closer to
what I think I
want.

To softly shut
my eyes, to every-
thing I don’t want
to see and smile
in the blissful
darkness of ignorance
where, already,
too many hide
in the shadows.

To turn my head
and ignore
everything that
bothers me,
that goes against
my grain,
and everything
I believe.
Turning my head
isn’t turning
the other cheek.

Bloated and floating
the body bobs
in the ebb
and flow of
the river, face
down and
deathly pale.

                AcB        4-7-98