Concentration Camp (I dont know why it's called this, it just came to me...an overpresiding feeling?)

Like a stifled sneeze, I feel uninhabited

at times--waking from dreams

in which I have been blinded by chemicals

and pitted against stranger-adversaries,

and while a faceless bloodied, ravenous

onslaught powers toward me

a sudden wave rushes through my body

pushing it all back--waking dizzy--

waking later than I wanted to--

slugging my hands through the day--

a miracle is tea and lemon, a miracle

is ginger and quiet noises of fires

and the shifting plaid and flannel

of autumn, to walk and see reddened

oaks, then to fall away from the world

at night. And in this am I ever awake?