(no subject)
well-loved and rough-hewn table
a coffeeshop in a different part of town
~
called my mother on the holiday
she was eating prosciutto and heirloom tomatoes
with a lover twenty-seven years her junior
and sounding the happiest she's ever been
~
things leveling
from pulse to release
recentered and solidly good
feeling the here more than the go
a break from road to visit destination
it's the same, of course
always at rest and always in motion
and i wonder at my penchant for the latter
identifying with blur
exploding eightpoint
thrumming into static tone...
(step through the door and it's gone)
(notice the path and it ends)
seeing where i've bought into perceptions of struggle
a little more than usual
and wondering too what that serves
often enough what's tiring is not the load
but the idea that it's heavy
month five of these long days
two weeks of finals left to go
that i will float and not fight...
grounding what's been called up like a forest fire
zizyphus and rehmannia
candlelight mass by way of blowtorch
the best way out is through and so
i surrendered to ashes and fever dreams
shadows and teeth from the window
hovering to the south and rushing down the hallway
my own beating heart, a wide diamond shape in pinkish-orange
hanging from a cord around my neck and visible as not before
there's more
a lifescape and not a story
endless
seamless
wordless
beautiful
wedjat eye
and i think about the tale
mortal imperfection in one elusive sixty-fourth
comfort with the unknown
humility and an intent to heal
a little garden-variety dark night
some standard issue becomingwhatyouare
running errands in a funk not so long ago
feeling edgey and deflective
to find when i checked out
that every grocery bag pulled from the re-use bin
inexplicably had two eyeholes cut out of it
i must have gone through five or six of them
and laughed out loud
fine, fuckers
you got me there
life is good...
~
limitless possibility
things have never been better than now
sublimation creeping through these sheets
set adrift with hands in place
and calling sleep like most call spirits...
a coffeeshop in a different part of town
~
called my mother on the holiday
she was eating prosciutto and heirloom tomatoes
with a lover twenty-seven years her junior
and sounding the happiest she's ever been
~
things leveling
from pulse to release
recentered and solidly good
feeling the here more than the go
a break from road to visit destination
it's the same, of course
always at rest and always in motion
and i wonder at my penchant for the latter
identifying with blur
exploding eightpoint
thrumming into static tone...
(step through the door and it's gone)
(notice the path and it ends)
seeing where i've bought into perceptions of struggle
a little more than usual
and wondering too what that serves
often enough what's tiring is not the load
but the idea that it's heavy
month five of these long days
two weeks of finals left to go
that i will float and not fight...
grounding what's been called up like a forest fire
zizyphus and rehmannia
candlelight mass by way of blowtorch
the best way out is through and so
i surrendered to ashes and fever dreams
shadows and teeth from the window
hovering to the south and rushing down the hallway
my own beating heart, a wide diamond shape in pinkish-orange
hanging from a cord around my neck and visible as not before
there's more
a lifescape and not a story
endless
seamless
wordless
beautiful
wedjat eye
and i think about the tale
mortal imperfection in one elusive sixty-fourth
comfort with the unknown
humility and an intent to heal
a little garden-variety dark night
some standard issue becomingwhatyouare
running errands in a funk not so long ago
feeling edgey and deflective
to find when i checked out
that every grocery bag pulled from the re-use bin
inexplicably had two eyeholes cut out of it
i must have gone through five or six of them
and laughed out loud
fine, fuckers
you got me there
life is good...
~
limitless possibility
things have never been better than now
sublimation creeping through these sheets
set adrift with hands in place
and calling sleep like most call spirits...