Worse For Wear

you have no idea how deep i have to dig

to find the energy to keep doing this,

how white knuckled every single day is,

waking to the same long road

each time i'm plucked from sleep.

i wonder if gravity ever gets tired.

If the center of the earth could be inside 

one man's vacuous skull, 

that's where i go to harvest this primal burning that pushes me onward

leaving nuclear ash in my furrows.

If i ever give up,

the conflagration will be visible from 

Betelgeuse