Poetic [...] Pragmatic

Agonizing drip-drop of thick syrupy Time,
IV poison which thrives under the bright Neon Overlords.
Master of nothing I see,
laying claim only to a handful of
ingrained burrowing slivers
that pierce the Mind-Bubble,
nagging, necessary crutches
that I am loathe to abandon.

[...]

How and where to find the energy for Work
when I don't really even want to Live?