Poem: A Narrow Tunnel

By: A.J. Huffman

Tunnel

of confusion flows from me to the ceiling
and back again. It is made of midnight,
steel, and something that resembles despair.
A mocking reminder of inability to control
basic functions. I begin to wonder if I am
human. Clockwork insomniac seems more
accurate character description. I tick
like a time bomb till 6 a.m., then fizzle.
No explosions here. Less sun, more black
hole, consuming myself. I am left lying
in the shadows of discontent, signaling
sleep, but always missing the exit.

###

A.J. Huffman has published thirteen full-length poetry collections, fourteen solo poetry chapbooks and one joint poetry chapbook through various small presses. Her most recent releases, The Pyre On Which Tomorrow Burns (Scars Publications), Degeneration (Pink Girl Ink), A Bizarre Burning of Bees (Transcendent Zero Press), and Familiar Illusions (Flutter Press) are now available from their respective publishers. She is a five-time Pushcart Prize nominee, a two-time Best of Net nominee, and has published over 2600 poems in various national and international journals, including Labletter, The James Dickey Review, The Bookends Review, Bone Orchard, Corvus Review, EgoPHobia, and Kritya. She is the founding editor of Kind of a Hurricane Press.

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