Saturday, April 3, 2021

On Easter Day

 

tomorrow kids will exist they might dance they will hunt for decorated eggs. they’ll laugh or get upset such a day to feel sad. a maddening rocket, a sip in boats such forgiveness not to hurt. southern charms northern wits as a boy becomes a man – those direct/hidden fears as tears running like spigots or feelings so acute it frets upheaval. as looked into crookedness the art of betrayal where it must conform. cakes or pies or both; candy or juice or soda pop; baskets filled with plastic or Retrievers and flowers at father or mother or uncle or aunty; at cousins or nephews or nieces.

            bikes in pathways scooters in driveways adults laughing and giggling and touching nerves. dominoes or gin rummy or Yahtzee. dirty palms filthy nails while washing is an effort. babies crying or snickering in all blue or pink. a feeling like fever a noticeable nonchalance a question – too intimate to be more direct. a glass he grabbed a swat on his bottom while he laughed about it.

            “I don’t want yams. I want only ham. I don’t want greens.”

            to presume upon ham or to presume existence while some are low. many lines in us many chords in us much pressure to exist.

            our rules are different our affiliations are different our blues our jazz our juggling is different. over mincing over antennas over literature. so much to read you so agonizing I give life to see a smile. a fragment of music a damaged guitar or reading to get closer – to juice or fruits or miracles. as thrown into atmosphere such laws of mystics such running into jungles.

            too low to admit it too afar to claim it while thankful for its mystery.

            gates are opened or dams are destroyed as we flood into each other. The Ghost is aware The Ghost is staring The Ghost is Intuition. films are on repeat the oven is a symbol, a word I take issue with using. as delicate creatures living in harshness remodeled each second.

            confirm me. or splash me. or dip me deep in names like Father, Son and Holy Ghost. as a reborn creature as a baptized confession as screaming to get perspective on the beast.

            a person knows for goodness.           

Grays as Wars

    I never quite capture it. I remain distracted. Years to silence. It would be psychological, to war a man’s brains. To talk badly to non-...