Polluted Thoughts
There's a miasma of polluted thoughts
Seeping in through my skull into my head,
Spreading like thick, inky oil blots
Over the ocean of ideas' vast spread.
This desultory, disheveled thinking—
So chimerical, yet so anodyne—
Lobotomizes me by dissecting
The unexpressed, latent desires of mine.
My somnolent narratives grow dirty,
Filthier as they progress and unfold
And I'm afraid the tainting could hurt me
If the biohazard isn't controlled.
Paroxysms of the oneiric state
Suggest poisons for which I supplicate.
poem by Tim Stensloff
Added by Poetry Lover
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