©2013 by Jay Crider
With the morning comes a car crash like awakening.
Currents of torment shoot along the blade ripping the flesh along the vertebrae.
Navy Crime Scene Investigators pick the scene as piercing currents vibrate the spine.
Tears of pain lead to questions of existence, lining the moment with a quilt of misery.
Signals of comfort are lost in the boob tubes translation.
Finally, the exalted pad of heat, bequeathed, lends me its delightful treat.