Without a fence, you don’t know
how far you can go.
It’s a bit of a surprise to have a choice.
There was a time
you barely noticed boundaries.
Now it’s like life takes place in an easy chair,
not pretty to look at but feels good
to sit awhile, to be held within the lines
of propriety and sobriety.
Content maybe, maybe not.
Restless mind inside a cozy room.
I would tell you to let your heart lead you,
let love bloom, let colors take away
the drudgery of daily life, like
stumbling on a Picasso or Gauguin in winter.
I admit I understand the appeal
of cozy over adventurous.
There is always daydreaming.
Wherever that leaves us, it’s as though
we traveled far away without leaving home.
city hordes
sweeping through hordes on city streets
almost getting crushed in the swarm
pushing aside automatons
hurrying to get to where they already are
everyone is so damn busy
to make eye contact, to smile
to be reminded they are human
even for a second
scanning vacuous gazes
sometimes catching wild eyes
but those are mine
in the storefront window
too much nothing
what I know about anything
is almost nothing
what I feel about everything
is almost too much
brain battles
ensconced (entombed) in an easy chair
in the corner of the living room
watching so much life pass me by
it occurs to me I should join in
if only it wasn’t so much effort
they don’t know
how I can feel the strain
of each chemical
warring in my brain
I felt it before I saw the wave
they never saw a thing
but endure the storm they must
there’s nowhere else to go
and I’m so, so sorry
again
for any trouble
it will pass
I’ll be forgiven
but with my softer side off for the night
I won’t forget
the world tilts
right now she’s thinking of where he is
she can still taste him on her tears
hear his last words to her
telling her she would be back
and though it was a sunny day
she had an unshakable chill
right now he’s still sitting where she left him
he can still see her hair flipping, hips swaying
hear her say goodbye
even while in disbelief
and though he was naked
he was burning up from the inside
right now nobody knows or cares about two small stories
they can fill in their own tales of woes
after reading other eyes
hearing other cries
and though not much can stop the spinning of the world
it sure as hell feels like it’s tilted on its axis anyway
The Word Rummager 