"An Insufferable Sequence"

                                       (1)               "A Late Reckoning"
                                            Dense midnight-evening chimney smoke ascends below soft fallen rain of a lead-pencil sky. Gray cigar stenciled clouds darken a pale omniscient horizon; while off in the remote distance a freight train decibel flickers to transparent disposal. A late-county block; one frail and silent perimeter. Neighborhood primates slept through soft quaint intervals of dead-bred retrieval. Amid late slumbering corridors; dull vulnerable minutes breed within a living room grandfather-clock's residential summoning. Awaken to an ungodly presence; pensive and disillusioned since childbirth. Silhouetted shadows scatter along grim-faded carpeting;
                                                       
                      ( yield to network error responses amid prototypical communication breakdown routines).
                               
                                          (2)    "My nerves are wrought and ache in a subtle season"
                                           
                                          I put on a cryptic morning face when the sky is asleep. Coffee never fills my lethargic void. My stomach experiences unnerving cycles of thwarted mechanics. Thoughts dwindle aimlessly beyond reasonable conception. An immortal clay-air recoils at the back of my soiled neck-hair. I mercilessly capitulate decades amid backyard household maintenance-chore abandonment. Suburban wind-chimes shrill: annoyingly penetrating, frost blood-bitten fingernails claw at an old forgotten aura of lost inclusive nostalgia; dated and useless. I curse my subdued imagination.
                            
                                           (3)    "Dead And Selfless/ or "A Frail Deliberation"
                         
                                         Women of light-maroon blouses and slave-driven under-garment apparel; temperamental at best in silver sun-wedding material and scarlet entrancement. Boredom along these illustrious roadsides is gorgeously inevitable . A game of uninspired croquet. Flourishing in remedial  nothingness; dry-martinis in complacent noon-time banquet halls. Graciously nibbling into Italian olive livelihoods: not enticing enough to entertain thoughts of scurvy or malnutrition.
                                             
                                                                      solidity

                      I occasionally peer through open afternoon bay-windows. The harbor is drearily colored below the darkened lull of a beckoning storm. Anticipatory skyline wreckage. My narrow birdlike-head yields to the torrent lifestyle of a man in the midst of subdued self-inflicted torture. I spend my incomprehensibly demoralizing time here at a private beach residence that lies on an exclusive eastern peninsula. I just sit here, recklessly indulging: playing solitaire by the morning-window moonlight