Poetica Spontenaium 5.27.06
I’ve been thinking a lot this morning.
Not much else to do
as I lay and wait for someone to
find
me .
As I concentrate on each breath,
my ribs straining against the weight of the bookshelf
of misplaced thoughts and forgotten intentions
that had fallen on top of me as I got up for a cup of tea.
The weight of this.
These.
The lies inside, the things that we believed
or desperately wanted to.
King James and the voter guide.
Ishle Park and video games manuals.
And the burden that comes
from knowing that everyword bearing weight
over my lungs and heart now,
is a word
that I’ve pushed so far from their proper place
in my sorry little head
that these words, these thoughts, these dreams,beliefs, and musings
should sway every so slightly, moment by moment
in quiet rebellion.
Or maybe it wasn’t that at all.
Maybe, perhaps, more like an anxious and unsure child
with a new toy or with a desire to be held and a shame of feeling small
looking down on their feet and shifting weight
between one small foot to the other
implicit in their silence to request the honor
of being noticed. To be remembered.
To be important for a moment.
And that moment might fruit a kindness
that could turn into a belief that would be fertilized by a passion
that is organic but bullshit free.
Day by day over the years it was like this.
This wait. This wait. This weight.
And with the thousands of seconds tipping ever such
until it should fall.
And make me notice them again but for all the wrong reasons.
This. These.
An encyclopedic compendium. A ghoulash. A recipe. A set of directions.
To where?
A pina colada of too many cadences
and not nearly enough rum.
But then again, I’ve had more than my share.
When did I stop being able to say the small considerations of no. thank you. sufficient. enough.
Why do I say that to the woman who won’t understand me
hovering beside my plate and pushing a dimsum cart.
But I can never say them to the mirror.
Well at least that didn’t fall on me.
That would have cut me with that crash. And I’ve just gotten the carpet cleaned.
Will I be found today?
Maybe if I get one hand free I can turn the page.
And maybe.
Just maybe.
It’ll feel lighter.
Afterall.
Did not the whole world start with one word?
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