Wait and Sea
Putting
a brave face on layaway of living. Running
gamuts
of the unspoken for hints of what it might
mean
in the language for which it was intended.
Fresh
from the heartland of a steady beat to the
requiem,
by rote of recurrence until it’s fresh as
the
deep blue of ancient seas. The lights that go
out
on their limbs. The heart of darkness cordoned
off
for surgery. Putting a little backbone up front
of
the rabble. A bartered craving for order to the
sorrow,
creeping into the lexicon of the admiralty’s
last
chance to float their ideas into friendly harbors,
before
seas freeze over tariffs on the trade winds
helping
turn mud into gold. The years that strangle
the
frozen moments to life. Grooming the
consequences
for acceptance. All that’s missing
from
the wholeness of a long way to go. Emotive
clusters
dangled from an aura filling the pauses
with
fertility. Whittled to a heartbeating of the
odds.
Amputations streamlining innuendo into a
traffic
of ideas within limits, chasing after the fact
through
the bedlam of a house on fire.
Stump
Detritus
serving as furniture for the war imputing
a
measure of loss in numbers given their cumulative
due.
A harsh light provoking high noon to glow.
Illuminating
a trek down craving’s canyon to the
center
of the earth, in pantomime on the slippery
slope
burning with an urge to run the gauntlet. To
see
the cure in the quivering redeemed from the
nagging
denouement of a melodrama. A migration
of
inklings towards an elusive belief. To leave the
nooks
painfully exposed as just another facet of the
vast
expanse stretching the truth, until it snaps into
nuggets
recited in the cold sheen of no place to run.
To
navigate to the betterment of the pieces come to
collect
their nimbus at the end of the road. A peek
past
incubating the cold of wounded feelings
leading
the charge, as if the motion made the
movement
stick to a turf worn bare by a traffic of
rationales
after the reasons have lost their way.
Looming
in confluence with something lessened the
more
you stare it down to earth. The what’s next as
answer
to what’s missing when it’s there. Assuming
the
day has come to rescue the night from itself.
More
easily confounded upon a premise putting
both
come and go at risk of finding peace, with
nowhere
to put it in the hour to which it
belongs.
Just When You Thought
And,
as if that wasn’t enough, the slicker side of the
even
moreso becomes increasingly apparent, without
any
need for the use of old eyes, seeing the arc of the
changeling
into what it has now so clearly become.
A
pragmatic gentility to the weight of the wondering
the
whys into whens, which the wheres meekly follow
into
place. An adversarial intimacy, no less weighty for
the
barbed caress of insights fostered by the takeaway,
at
full gallop towards meaning this or that, as if it
mattered
beyond the ticklish touch of little mercies
drifting
off target towards the center of the earth.
Down
alleys incorrigibly winding into avenues poised
as
platforms, promoting thoughts too swollen for heads
to
hold in safekeeping the balance in check. Casting a
silhouette
overboard in a flurry of transparencies
returning
fire to place of purchase, complementing the
sense
of having put it all together in a blur. Quoting the
well
suited to bleeding something more than water into
the
general tenor. A contagion catching an utterance by
the
whispery tail, wagging a confession into play the
linchpin
pulled to make it seem as if.
Bowering
Subliminal
donuts stuffing cheeks turned
cattywampus
for chewing the truth till it
settles
for second place. Consuming circles
by
degrees twisting fate in an arc the
covenant
calls its own. A pliable infinity
made
to fit small minds. A cyanide
swagger
to queasyville brewing pirouettes
from
wobbles, and the will chasing its echo
through
a palsy in the fabric thinning the
ice
to a slip the slide might fall for. To
wriggle
in the physics of nuance flexing
shades
to support the weight of perception.
A
practiced blur providing cover for fine
points
to cluster, in a broadside sweeping
scintallae
into play for a spark. When
asked
to face the walls closing in to form
a
home. Piecing the scenery together
with
a feeling fostered by the shadow’s
spent
limp to the rescue.
