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Follow Through.

Just witness.
Surrender the first person,

to the heightened perspective
offered by this liberating

third person point of view,
what’s left of you to flirt
with the contours

of the soul, naked:
your original face.

Now follow through.

Do what you do, live
your dismal
rhythm, ride your agonizing
echo, dancing
to the same sickened,
damning tune,

needle skipping,
caught in the groove
on a scratched 45 played

too many
fucking times
and as a consequence

the parameters
of the aforementioned
redundancy even further:

so, my bad.
I forgot to remind
you that it’s all good.

No worries.
Go onward and upward,
do what you do.

Follow through.

Just do it awake
and detached.


Gather raw
materials for the analysis.

Destroying the ego,
setting the persona afire
would be so counterproductive.

You’re just blinded
by rage and anxiety.

Take a step back,
catch your breath again.

Here and now
you will learn
how to create
better masques
by witnessing —

dispassionately —

the follies
in the ones
you presently don.


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