Absolute Nothings

The absolute nothings have returned
to claim the remains of this howling day
wresting huge chunks of something,
like dancing lemmings on the proverbial brink,
biting thoughts
scamper incognito and depressed
chewing
salient mind bones
somewhere
across the infiltrated back of my residual
brain droppings,

I wish I could say I had been beyond that
in fact, I wish I could say I was
an official at my own royal presiding
even if
I am awkward in this inclement state--
still inspired of a distinct and noble truth
not yet
the almighty fractured and dislocating lie,
Yeah, hark!
the herald angels sing,
and wisdom's tooth and hound are barking
at my door, quiet riots abound all around me
alas
and cheerio,
I am the breakfast of champions
(Have they been waiting patiently in the banquet hall?)
the object of a frenzied feasting
by half-starved glass-eyed
sleek sharks
of a stark and contagous yesterday,
so what do I do with what is left of this bleak winter's iced morning?
I suppose
I shall have to gather up my leftover star-studded persona
from the harvest moon's floor,

I have barely begun to mop up after
all the muss and the fuss
and I shall have to dig a bit deeper still
into the fecund earth
just to make a little room for myself.