Voice of Self Pity


Disguised as your social life, I am a lonely goatherd. Welcome me to your dreams.
You are falling into a deep sleep.
Look forward to nothing. Look back to see your place in the herd. Study all you
have lost. Is this anthropology or the dust on the windowsill? The answer is getting very
Your eyelids are growing larger. Heavy as blankets, they shade your life, which is
shrinking. Now it is small enough to slip into someone’s pocket, my pocket. Because no
one else comes to see you. I would give it back to you if I could find it.
I will tell you what to do. Pretend you are a cloud. Act like mist. Do your best
imitation of snow. Your arms are too heavy to lift. Your dreams forget how to breath.
I am your closest friend and I get you into trouble because no one can tell us apart
and I never know when to quit.
When I snap my fingers you will awaken. When I snap my fingers you will
awaken. When I snap my fingers you will awaken . . .

Rich Ives is the author of Tunneling to the Moon: A Psychological Gardener’s Book of Days currently being published in serial @ Silenced Press everyday in 2014 and forthcoming in paperback. Begin from the beginning, catch up, read daily. Just refer to the Burrow Guide.