when
life is webbed, oily, thus, slippery, it’s hard to believe in others. many have
goodness, baptism, tight knit community, at careers, wives and husbands, bright
futured children—surefire blessed, wrestling an existential gnat. others suffer
alienation, estrangement, baffled by existence, torn by insistence. a soul
moves with grace, endures mighty agriculture, builds a franchise, steep in
precariousness. to search for a benediction, to need a blessing, or a softer
word, to ensure, someone has seen struggle.
one
says, "touché," walks away, shivers, blesses himself, never looks back. another
argues in himself, debating responsibility, reassuring himself, an easier cargo.
if to carry, if to live, if to love—as creatures dying softly, facing trials,
most hopes are lingering—
over
a sky letter, a quick swoop, some dear soul, to know life in situation—by a
cold hallucination, by intense, positive, delusional paranoia, an earth with
secrets, a woman with child, a blessing, requiring more secrets, suffocating,
holding said child, longing for redemption.
mystique
aura, mysterious excellence, trying with delight, managing friendships, honest
with spouse, carrying fortune, power, pain.
easier
to breathe, steady uphill, caves at stops along a trail: orison eyes, golden
countenance, pulchritude soul, gifted, running to fix life, anxious, steady
into a storm—
with
many making grime, stirring into contradicting, steering hostile arts, alive to
make mischief, alone in a vacuum, lashing at society.
