A poem for mothers birthday after she has passed. A girl of good company (I mourn) gives me a cutout piece of card in the shape of a heart. The heart is blue.
Blown out use.
Brittle light fuse,
Blue heart of mine.
Blew heart of yours.
Best shrapnel leaves
Base- shell, seethes.
Jokes: not not my best work.
I.e : in other words. “id est”
E.g : for example. “Exempli gratia”
And I don’t know how to feel or focus. Hunter raises the social bar. I stay out of bars. I lack I lack. Plans made. Wanting others, company. Lost vegetable. Blood in my brain. Tidal. Hit man- hormonal. Moaning.
Jingle of tears. The rains came and went. Thesaurus. Cross with myself over words. You’d sit, vocabulary wilderness. Black and white. Boxed in, afraid to move out. Run, free, reach.
Overarching. Wendi- dad tells me. Walk walk walk. Sore legs. Bad knee. I worry and worry. And nobody asks me. Nobody asks if I’m ok. And I’m not and they don’t ask. They don’t ask because there are bigger things at play. And I can’t bound over these hurdles. Hurling myself at White Walls. Black tasks and ordinary deeds. Run away, run away. They cry.
I am central to your plot. Parental death is killing me and us all. Oil is our imagined darkness. Fuel for corruption. King of end. And I don’t bound thoughts, I just await a melting. A down. A depression.
Lost work, time money. Current-currency. What will I do? You don’t ask me. Nobody asks. Good question. Blushing, over share. Fear for the bigger issue in my life.
Yes yes yes yes people are sangerous. Dangerous.