there is social angst.
it builds unnoticed, until it looms. it’s a hydrant, a firehose, a feature
inside. pouring into television, emotions become pictures, feelings become
words.
a man is
visualized prior to his arrival, he must fit the footprints. much taken for granted,
nemesias seeming lost, casual discussion a bit trying.
storms hit harder
than normal. neighbors are vigil. they count indiscretions.
pipes are
clanking. skies have fallen. dreams have choked up the Ghost. mud is normal.
bees sing softer. gravel seems to seduce guts.
bears are hibernating.
irritation is screeching. it’s time to leave caves.
sunshine is heavy, like
buses upon pavement, or better, trucks.
I stumbled into something, like reacting for freedom, like a trail
disrupted.
a feud inside. a river inhome. a barn
out back.
I washed my hands. I saw a vision.
she was facing in some distortion. as deliberate, self-conscious, subliminal. moving
into motion. accursed for mind control, easing into a vault. rows of onlookers,
a subtle approval, it hurts to realize imperfection; a soul hunted by gray
bullets. a heart haunted by unfair acts. a conscience bled of its worth. dying is legal. living is earned.
birth is usually accidental—then we discuss properties.
many chains as social
banshees like messing with one the team is on prowl. soft disapproval, achy
angst, like a monster is seeping out. to feel designed in art where most find
it irritating.
close hang or listen or sit
comfy in trunks. a few mothballs, an old diary, a
few
pens for poets. a nice watch, grandmother’s blanket, a pile of notes from
the 90’s. a frown at a paper a vignette as it
meant so little. our mistakes. our
growth. our self-respect. as favored behavior,
unfavored complaints, unpacking years of debris.
