It’s Taxing, isn’t it?
It’s taxing isn’t it, not being in a real room anymore.
It’s like being in a virtual belly of a newly discovered underwater beast, water-handled, and mucked.
It is taxing, feeling so beneath the surface, so damp under the waterline. What is the measure of success now?
There’s the bravado on the one side, and the blood-soaked climax on the other.
What tries, what edges forward, what renders lyrical, that is the threat of not-being in this Time of __________.