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right now

right now
my beat up blue chair no longer
resembles a throne & has only shock value
right now
i'm rummaging through one thousand faces
& nine hundred ninety-nine have potential
right now
i'm trapped in ritualistic story line
that won't make way for mythology
right now
saint ishmael is nowhere to be found
& i long to roleplay
but all the good names are taken
right now
i'm asking myself
if true love isn't an oxymoron
right now
reality is a harsh mistress
right now
i ask what price poetry
& do i want to shell it out
right now
i've gone primitive
but i've lost my appetite

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