Falling along a line I follow the other path, the throne sitting vacantly in the morning and I’m there in the first world at the sun’s setting with the word of the year.
Sullen is a word used to describe the pitiful. I am pitifully broken, lost in my tumultuous thoughts, out in the cold on the back porch staring into the darkness. Every now and then a car whips by, offering a well-lit glimpse of the backwoods. I breathe heavy, my heart sinking to the bottoms of my feet with each draw of blistering air. Hard to remember the last time I felt warm inside. I step off the porch and begin my solemn march towards the light.
o o o
Blazing red and blue lights dance over the treetops. Just another Friday night for all but those within a few miles from the scene. Not much can happen out in the country, at night, without being seen or heard by a few handfuls of people. Those living within earshot gather outside to catch a glimpse of the light show down the road. Some venture down to get a closer look. There’s been an accident and the sirens echoing in the distance signal the arrival of an ambulance.
o o o
“She came out of nowhere. I.. I don’t know how this happened!”
“I can’t believe this. What am I gonna do?”
“It’s alright, calm down, we’ll get a statement from you down at the station.”
“Oh, no, the poor thing!”
“She ran out right in front of me!”
“Doesn’t make any sense…”
“Don’t look, honey.”
“Geesh. Got enough to worry about with the deer, now this. Tsk. Tsk.“
o o o
The thoughts. So many thoughts. My first cat. My favorite teacher. My mother. Avocados. Watermelon in the summer sun. Sloppy brownies. Leather. Swinging. Writing letters in the dark. Running in Autumn. Heavy backpacks. Splinters. Clothes rack. Coffee dripping. Red sand. Peonies covered in ants.
I feel warm again.
Woeful is the infantile view of the world sold to the masses as a cure for too many thoughts on the mind disease.
Yoga is another way to get vertigo for life, each pose more useless and harder on the body than the last.
Low carb no carb paleo gluten MSG laced fodder for fads, everybody’s buying the next miracle berry.
Mass media and pop culture have a solution for everything and another one for every side effect.
What are you subscribing to today?
Finger bones freeze.
Toe tendons tighten.
Soles ache like a migraine.
Press on, tiny button.
Looking to the heavens I ponder the great
There’s something there and I can’t relate
I wish I wish I wish
Calling on the stars for the answer I need
A reason to stand for every done deed
I wish I wish I wish
My belief in you is to be true
My belief in me is to be free
My pain is the cage
My dream is the chain
My wish is the key
Meet me at the opener,
where we’ll dance ’till late.
This is what I’ve been hopin’ for,
how long will I have to wait?
The haze of your gaze sweeps through my thoughts like a plague of corrective insecurities.
In the darkest hour on the darkest night, I fly forward on the path of darkness carrying a light stick, shining on and shining while
all dark fades brighter.
On the brightest day on the brightest hour, I stilly sit in the field of light holding an umbrella, shading on and shading while
all light highlights shadows.
My parallax within combines light and dark, bright and shade, to form my signature fade.