In the Pit

Bitterness drenched my pajama clad body
through the night
No, it ran through
my veins and oozed from my pores
as I slept
coursing up and down 
the length of my restless leg syndrome
concocting nightmares for my REM hours of
tortured sleep
where I confronted a witch with a suit
and her starched black hair
a lesbian defrocked nun 
who just might be threatened by me
I'm like the hunted Dorothy
dreamily searching for a pair of 
cinnamon red shoes
the symbol of my youth
and naive enthusiasm and hope
Now I spit out the bile of reality
and taste an acid deception
from them
the hiring committee
from me
the reluctant candidate
pondering the question
where do I go from here? 

I trek a wilderness of constantly dashed hopes
seeking protection from the law's ugliest creation
its teachers and interpreter puppets and 
power hungry souls
I cannot escape the shining light of 
awareness that my past will continue to haunt me
and set traps of delusion
in the earthen floor

Oh Madre Tierra 
swallow me up 
and the feelings of this 
job hunting despair. 

Chicago, March 2000 (I didn't get the job).