One Vote for Catastrophe by Kathryn Jacobs

Just dead around the edges: fingers numb,
a head with last year’s thoughts re-echoing
in this year’s brain-cells – nothing too far gone.
Regurgitated pleasures: not the same,
But new ones cost so much.

Adrenalin feels splendid: just like life.
And so we milk it. Watch me tell that joke
exactly like the last time, every pause
down pat. But that’s the problem, folks. The mind’s
on automatic – resting, fuzzy-eyed,
while words spill forth: a soothing formula,
But disconnected. Grey cells splinter off
to wonder about dinner. Coconut
sounds interesting – My friend, you need a change.

Dead nerves are calluses; disaster strips.
Snakes do it better, dragging blunted skin
on emery boards and peeling inside-out.
Catastrophe – abrasion of the soul.
It hurts. But then, at least you feel alive –