Awol (Exodus 7x-Entendre) by Sigmund Mund, J.D.
Absence without Leave nor Knowing Yes. I’m a classical tennis player Who fetched everything back
From whence it came
With Mega Topspin
That Bungee-Leapt off the Baseline three-fourths of the way up the catch fence.
A Baller who proudly held serve
Like an aesthetic heart-throb from the movies.
Yet here, on these two underground corridors, I have longstandingly traversed—
Stuck like the inside of
Horses hollering hooves
This blank, inner bubble
Resembles sheer Dementia
From forced, unprecedented and over-prescribed
Cocktail stupor:
Autonomic turn off,
Twice a Day.
And let’s not forget the twice, 60 straight sleepless nights
From the merciless, barf-evoking Pitch-Forker
That also plagued me incessantly for the vaster Bulk of
Six years Prior to Internment That coerced me
Into staying up All night for eons
Making meticulous
Music and Writing Of a Cavalier
Showperson’s Stackerazz Calibur!
Because otherwise, while not sleeping, Waste hastens...
Though To the Outer Pastoral! Wider Bubble of Yonder
And a yet to be determined
New age of lore
As of Now untold.
Freedom awaits and presently comforts
I shall scale the barricaded fence
From insulated awakening to lasting peace A lawyer without bar
Not quite in the 20 slam club
Like a “lobster” in scampering flight SoCal Open tennis player with fight Pent-up song writer’s might Top-notch author arousing spite...
A committed advocate who Will make matters darn right.
I now realize it takes a village
To make an idiot slightly more competent.
Yet it also takes a cocky
“A” player not to make this up.
After the longest of hauls
I’ve broken the remedial 10-3pm
Groups for Greatness
And Zerox machine’s excuse for 1L Paper Chase As well as the Underworld’s silence
For this avid outdoorsman—
No, life is not supposed to be underground And unless meditating,
Pleased as Punches (felt with multiplicity to the cranium
As well as outside privilege card stricken unfairly 50-fold) Disapproval
Should never be the norm.
¥et, for what I have endured
In this 4-year lost time warp
This survivor is slightly more competent. And, ironically, most of the villagers
On the Compound Are darn good people,
Many of whom I would gladly meet for coffee Outside.
I am not without culpability
A pariah outsider who was taken in.
In retrospect, I had a decent backhand And a forehand that could have zapped Harder than anyone’s in the history
of Golden Gate Park.
A kryptonite steady serve that
Might have bid all of us Fare well.
A True heart is supposed to pierce the veil,
mend the soul, and be forever malleable. Andele to Progress
To all a Good Night
and Thank You dearly
For the healthier prospect
Of tantalizing Self-autonomy!
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