southern
expectation. a little fear to stay right.
background harmonica.
by motion to feel
pain—more depression
—it was a long
run. like predicaments, like
sorrow koans, at
pride’s conundrum.
I’ve been smitten—as
with her ghosts
—carving into
borrowed thoughts. I’ve seen us
in circles,
running, looking backwards,
stumbling over
tether balls, trying to gain
footing.
I’ve felt
disappearance, clasping air,
falling into
inversion.
a soul guns out he
chases ducks and geese he heads to Florida. raw anxiety, filthy streetlamps,
old ruined flutes. winter anguish, all year miseries, like up for down or flat.
a bit unfeeling, not cold, just cranking up to know myself. sour, numb, many
confuse depression with giving up. much an uncooked fretting. much a starry
unreachable. symbols midair, no one sees them, they pursue our bowels. a soul
boiling, sweltering, in a hot ass freezer. catching chills. like early morning.
looking over at one we trust. a shoelace at our spirits, choking our guts, our
souls pleading in heaviness. how to unsay it? how to right intangibility? aside
for sensation—we never get a correlation.
unnoted again. it’s
akin to refusing to play piano. counted into a picture—but unseen—the picture
fades away.
travail to sing.
to put on a show. with brimstone pelting souls.
