Your sister showed up today, Black wings rather than banded body, Could it be the same wink from another dimension?
First sign of spring but in the fall time In the upside down world has a meaning Crosswinds
We live We adjust You die
Tangent from the cloaked one goes To closed, covered eyes that once burned The forecast is cloudy hazy smoggy with girded muscle
Girded human muscle stands at the follicle / tree While others distance and shun the balding spot (even if it’s their own) They aren’t solitary and light footed But fruit flies with hungry ghost tounge
Loyalty to beyond pretty / ugly gets the skin flap shelter from residual waves “A face only a mother could love” A story only your maker will understand
All that lives is Kore the Queen
Maybe appeased with pockets of blue left years (lifetimes) ago
Callous pre-pubescents Hired (voted in?) to run our country Risk it all for human flotsam jetsam Investigate cause of roadkill Scour online for signs of naughty emotion Too trite to say outloud Many’s reason for a whole season Always vulnerable to a nudge or shuffle Spirit eludes but can find me for a kiss
It used to be much easier to forgive than to forget, That was before ‘culture’.
The wasteland makes you grip to an outrage of spontaneity Whether yesterday (not likely) or ten years ago, Not thoroughly consciously aware that it’s gripped like a clam does a sand grain.
‘I Was!’ the injury confirms. I was a receiver, now barricaded behind scar tissue and nutrient-bare soil?
Meaning from molehill Storyline from dwelling
I Was might as well become I Am
Fourteen and alone, sometimes even in the hood and alongside the street if her caretaker is stupid enough.
Tory Flotilla spent years - years!! - providing solace to ignorant humans. The poems and singing she endured .. awful. Loneliness and poor vittles .. awful. Those she was assigned to were flaky and flitty yet she understood contracts, made before incarnation, that brought her to the test of those flakes and flits. She could stare steadily and knew she was the face-to-face of the day for humans incapable of this with their own.
Truth be told she could’ve napped her way into the next life. And was resigned to doing just so.
Alas, fate.
What did fate wish her to collide with?
Perhaps her body wasn’t sturdy enough, but the engine was.
Like a wreck she comes, but little, big, or any in between old ladies can’t be held accountable. The fibers of restraint fray. The aches were made by someone. And the ‘light touch’, isolation, ‘privacy’, and most of all lies don’t tickle anymore. I’ll transmit code with my teeth, she says, shelter have a translator for ya?
All your eyes fall on will look like a cat soon You know the one - that cat
The flutter of a leaf = twitch of whisker Under draping ivy Beside empty fountain Amongst meeting of crows
There! The throbbing fur goes And the steel will trap it So say the marbles in your head when they collide
Seems the cat knew you fed her the dead all along
And the most living is pawprint left when scouring for what’s alive
Beneath us pumped out caterpillar greenery
Instead now gold-yellow-brown monarch
Taken by torrents
To ho hum steel-dull drains.
Executioner tells us we love,
Reveling in the taken-for-granted when it goes.
Sunset still there but more demure,
We are ready for the holding-of-breath.
Each with mittens, boots, umbrella
Each a solo wonder, Can I hold the beat?
To have a chrysalis as lantern just to ourselves.
You’ve got the claw, I’ve got the fang What we have most of all Is knowing we do this
Four hoofed, four pawed All think they can be winged Stop their spinning and tuck away When we’re on the periphery
Center stage a brute force act Memory of the script primordial Audiences feign they live through chatter Yet worn groove shows they live through us
A-Z Cursive carefully constructed Highest marks for penmanship And a memory too
So I’d anticipate the dates And return the letters, Receive their weather, animals, neighbors, change - the poignantly peripheral.
That was when there could be Thou; But now?
The narcissist beasts interfere, Contaminate, It’s not good enough to have robot script, The contents also need to be ash.
The overseer is cynical: accuser, judge, jury all in one. End result is circus life With the back biters and stabbers, These aren’t who I rise to meet with, Birds don’t trust this wire any longer.
Someone dropped human to be consumer; Was it you, parents? Might call when glowing box gives the command, Likely be old time landline flatline response no matter.
{disremember .. not respecting enough to remember?}
The best things in life allow me to speak And don’t judge and shun Although they’re silent
There’s the apprehension of potential words, There’s also ‘just’ the receiver, Appearance same Inner state opposites
In a land of sterility with the norm being heads barely above water You are not an impotent tool
As the waves return to the sea, so the words give way to silence.
