The Chase

I think of Pacman

Gobbling dots back then

Did his obsession

Lessen I question

Does he still dot dance?

Tranquilizing trance

Munchies before brunch

Heed my heavy hunch

The dot dopamine


Doesn’t meet any needs

Sowing sinful seeds

Growing thorny vines

Chasing ghosts and kind

Tearing into flesh

Ensnaring, bleed fresh

Yellow Pacman red

Torn, worn, weary, bled

Sunny, supple skin

Sordid, sagging, thin

Weary, worn, wince when

Addiction saddled

Addition addled

It’s not adding up

An addict’s sum’s up

There is no safe space

For one in the chase

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