They Sicken

"They sicken of the calm who know the storm."
                                                       Dorothy Parker


They sicken of the calm
who know the storm,
it holds no promise.

The calm is a
black hole sucking
life in.

The storm is Life,
twisting, screaming
and dancing near Death.

Once you have
counted coup on
codeine and car wrecks,

been shot at and missed
every good thing
seems mundane.

Reality stands no chance
when sharpened point imaginings
soar infinitely.

The coolest green grass
of contentment is no memory
compared to swimming
the crashing surf of melancholy.

Those who know the storm
cringe against days blinding rays
but are comforted at the breast
of darkest night.