Leanings

Maybe what I want is all this to hold
still. Flak jacket resembling something else.
Maybe the humming I feel compelled 
not to make too loud is the necessary 
drone beneath harmonies I do not wish 
to disentangle. Maybe there are fresh
sweet yellow onions in the crisper in 
our two-door fridge like a two-car garage.
Maybe the fact that this week Thursday feels 
more like Friday might explain this leaning
into imperfect permanence as if
to simplify by way of constancy this life.
This string of sequential things not yet
connected but holding fast as fitted sheets.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Beach Light

Arizona frames the water she may dream even when surrounded by cacti, some  wearing hats. You can see in the sky the flag of the State to the left and clouds and stars billow blinking the season of choice. Every bit within her mind, as if  voiced by an insistent whisper floodlighting  the requisite pool umbrella that protects her body at leisure as she looks ahead. How bountiful the beach light she imagines warms even sky, the pictures before  her eyes living away from traffic and spreadsheets and routine better left where they are awhile as she resurrects.
Read more

Ars Poetica 2

Take a scissors to the girdle keeping you pinched. Better still, don't insert yourself into  Such unnecessary confines. Spurt lines Onto the page from your center and such Peripheral points of origin  Known to be your own. Form something sure Even deliberately ugly  By standards bystanders would likely  Reject but which transcend. Remember There's no time for anything other than This urgent feed originating from  Heaven knows where encapsulated  In some seam you redeem by  Focusing on the next uncut thing.
Read more