The Skeptic

My eyes were open, a circuit board of fuses
With a hot-wired heart.
You –
An uncontrollable jerk through every frayed nerve ending
split by the appetites of hungry hamsters.
A computer whirs in the back of my head,
It pulsates with nervous tension and denies a password
I thought I knew.

Mechanical animals leap towards the kill;
a stuttering foot smokes at the toe.
Images; red, green, blue flash along an army of retinas.
They rest upon a twisted version of you.

I’m paralysed – soldered to a seat of pink plastic.
My iron lung spasms; then collapses under the pressure.

An unknown command, the question mark is thrusting;
up and down, up and down.
A finger – so unlike the rest – traces the keys
looking for the right words to feel.
Stare long enough and it may fold like poker players
during nuclear war.

Comments welcome!