Untitled - September 4, 1999

The disappointment
is a tangible bitterness
on my tongue.

The hatred
that fills their eyes
batters gainst
the isle that is
me.

To mingle with the shreiks
of an albatross
that is stranded here.

On the desert island
that resembles no paradise,
there is no message in the bottle
no hope for redemption,
there is no escape.