By mental
departure those islands those caves this primitive self.
To fellowship
alone the dynasty of roses where there is sameness.
I woke
in heaviness. I wasn’t worried, I guess.
…something
needs something, where something must withstand something, this becomes the
general portrait….
a sink made of porcelain
or a rug a bit lumpy or a dusty new fan; mother’s voice but another’s agitation,
plus, it has been graying these weeks; cocaine ceilings or pictureless drawers
or letters flooding a cedarchest. The city woods are glacial the country is
dark while so distressed over something that must be controlled.
I understand
dislike but something is its life, or something went wrong; to feel so
alienated or to feel so loved both come with privileges; an antique car or an
antique attic while so careful with ‘things’; those grumpy people those
heartwrenching people so close to entering those gates.
Ichabod
is holy but something is war while lightfast determination.
Abijah
is holy. Abigail is holy. Where Jezebel is unholy.
What
does a soul desire in this town of feelings if not something considerate? The
inquiry seems simple.
It has been heavy
these days—the winds swoop and gust and many are with agonies. A javelin has
jolted California, our behaviors are well-planned, and a lady is playing with
pins. So many are bathing. So much soap and lotion. So much frustration!
I imagine some are
oblivious, seated at a curb, speaking to pavement; internally absent or raging
in partial sentences, while needing a hospital. But if it can’t be billed, it
becomes more feelings, while if it hits home, we attend to it.
Stigma
is wafting. It’s embarrassing—but we must paint pictures, (a soul so perfect
for its audience);
if
but more clarity, where a person explains, while the listener senses something
omitted; this fair danger, if but to control, where too much would dissuade and
distract the objective.
Such
filled kitchens—pots or pans—spices and ingredients; metaphoric rain or a few
signs while treating others like lepers; some forget the unwelcome mat!
It becomes
talking to steel—or looking closely—where cultures disgrace their cultures; others
laugh, or not quite there, to actualize the irony and satire.
