it is happening again
the birds return
a task that takes weeks
island of warmth
ripening the succulent fruit
shedding our skin, increasing our size
here. an introductory offer
a dangling chance doing an uncertain dance
along the edge of a hope too thin to grasp
it is happening again
down and out but never over
delay the proceedings, replace the parts
insert a bird into a sentence
others yet still others obscure the wonders
the sun. doesn't rise.
it sneaks by while we wait, out of sight,
behind our eyes
as if everything takes place on a sidewalk
and never in a field
I want the dreamers to keep on dreaming, okay?
and a fountain of youth to quench my thirst before I burst
into tears, each one ten years
the consequences of living, once having leapt,
several times crept, occasionally paraded,
but more often than not meandered about
as if sedated
just some simple concepts
something to ponder over with coffee in a cafe
while staring out of any old window onto any old day
knowing full well that somewhere the flowers are blooming-
they're just too far away
I'm still not dead
the way you looked,
the words you said-
I play them back in my head
itches scratched, musings forgotten
hello, welcome to the help desk, is something rotten?
thanking you, thanking you, with my silver-plated heart
the greatest tragedy is nothing more than whatever tears you apart
my pain is your piano, so play me out of your life
my pain, your pain, ink stain, all the same
it arrives like this:
everything all in one box, and you have to sort it out
landscapes in the hardware aisle,
childhood crushes right next to the knick-knacks,
and the only bathroom is in another town,
no matter how important you think you are
we seek a zen brush to untangle our wounds,
but something so elusive is like scuba-diving on the moon
here. a mirror. in it you can see the vague truthfulness
of your perception
which is nothing more than a deflection
of a more important question
to which there is no answer anyway
I rest my case, I pet my cat,
and begin again my journey where I always do:
right where I'm at
~
2016 - 2021