The Wake

    by: Audrey Ryan

I woke up stiff in red-flagged nihilism
Just thinking, Sun, to hell with laconic
And languid mornings. Quick, my narcissism

Has come to play revealing neurotic

This self, what shall we do? How precocious

I am alone, induced in narcotic-

Like moods. Sit still my squeamish soul, nexus
To nothing more than one frustrated female
In need of the unknown, now left nauseous

At thoughts of the waking day's activity;
Today I'd trade with any non-entity.