trying to breathe,

so hard after all.
unexpected, to be sure
not that you would
go there eventually
but that I would feel the way
I do in finding the day upon me;
heavy in blue smoke and so
I can't breathe

when once I would have done
something, anything, now I know
I've known a long time
that there was nothing, is nothing
that can be done

the idled days are over
barely lived, even
always small and passing, in truth,
but stretched into wide dreaminess
in my mind
so as I
try
to breathe
I know this really comes to nothing
it is just that
it is one thing to believe
and another to find the side of yourself
that is another type, depth, layer
what you might think at one floor-
take the elevator and flip-side
suddenly
I can't breathe