What Measure?

The Orpheus of the evening.
In truth, all songs in my head.

Feverish in many minutes, but cooled in the hereafter.

My burden is to burden those that burden the burdened.

Under what measure? What measure is most accurate?

Atop the sidewalk.
You will dwell with regulars, irregulars, incontinence, fear and loathing.
Delve away from rationale and deal with emotion.

I moonwalked aloft the many tragedies that at first were self-concocted.
The shovel was not handed to me to dig a grave.

In my glide,
my slide,
I happened upon it, picked it up and started digging.

When I bottomed out, I decided to dig to my side.

There I found you.
Like a rope you hoisted me from my pit to the wind.

Self-resurrected?

Hardly, I created you to have you save me and create the empirical methodology for such, only to give it all to the rest of the world.

By what measure will you succeed?

Well...by the same measure that possessed me to qualify and quantify the other-worldly decisions I made and continue to make.

Measure.

Measure it all.

Not by the metric of the world.

But your own, where you are in your day.


This day is mine. I am bruised, battered and ever prouder for my wounds...


and of course, this awakening.