Deconstruction by Nick Thomas
Head spinning
from the nauseating thrill
of critical methodologies, subliminal howling,
stomach churning from pills, lack of meaning,
and anxiety, and, still over-caffeinated,
type a poem with nostrils flaring, laptop eye
staring, staring, I, nearly-caring, balking - NO!
will cursor back- GO BACK- to Word,
back drafting, half expecting
to finish, check spelling, re-read,
check phrasing, check glaring
misquotations, clarity/definition,
UNsparing, um...umm... - NO!
pairing subject/object, defining, refining
my argument for why she, that slippery
herring, that lady of perpetual daring,
dances around Virtue, forever floating,
far from my blinking arrow.
