falling

Falling and flailing, it seems wildly, but, in fact its what we’re programmed to do when we’re falling. I can feel the jet streams taking me, not unlike a leaf. I was in the clouds, but now I’m falling and the mantra in my head: trust the ground. This happens every time I’m falling like this. And just when it feels like I’ll be falling forever the ground reaches out and takes me from the air. Like getting smacked in the back of the head. I am absorbed into her, I am her, and then filtered through her. This is when the ground becomes the clouds and I’m dangling with my head in my new set of clouds, waiting to fall again.

Peel the Skin

If when the skin peels away
you bleed orange slices and mango sweat,

then you’ve been spending too much
time with the clouds.

If, however, you find the image
of a snake, or other cold-blooded reptile

you might look in a mirror

to find the septuagenarian you
staring back at you—

this is when the real magic happens!

Yips and Slips

While you slip into sleep the dog yips, from dreams he dreams halfway across the room. Spiders spill out your ears. While you half-think the dreams your dog dreams, he yips and you slip.


After reading Takashi Hiraide’s For the Fighting Spirit of the Walnut… and dozing in the afternoon heat.

Body as Garden

With

Swollen heart and sunken chest,

Beleaguered palpatations

Prop up this mess.

Caustic conditioning causes

Apertures of bile

Erodes intestines and

Aerates the soil,

Composting Coffee grounds and

Soy paste meatpatties.

There are no Monarchs

In this garden.

Tightrope



Tonight I walked the dog at around 9 o’clock. I  ran into the three Weird Sisters, who wobbled and ached, they spoke of recent doctor’s visits in between long periods of silence. Our dogs sniffed, then growled and barked. I mumbled something, but in my mind I was extremely witty and congenial.

We pulled away and walked up the sloped driveway, walked along the arterial drag passing under erubescent street lamps and into the cover of shadow. I took a couple puffs off the 8 $ mass produced glass marijuana pipe I had shoved in my jacket pocket before I left. Presently I realize little resinated nuggets tumble around in my pocket as I hide the evidence. Of course the  pair of rat terriers race to the chain link fence that runs along the sidewalk, their barks like trumpets, somehow melodic. Everything’s going to be OK. Life is a myth.

So suddenly everything slows down. Thousands of frogs croak, I can feel the reverberation of their ribbed ribbiting. Some days after 9 o’clock at night you can actually watch the clouds roll by. Have I slowed down enough to watch the world pass me by? I’m a big believer in perception, in different levels of communication and understanding, I’ve crossed a line. A threshold maybe? Everything’s going to be OK. There will be a price to pay… Cancer, stroke victim, diabetes, paraplegic, Crohn’s disease, multiple sclerosis, Parkinson’s, Alzheimer’s, degenerative, decognitive… Okay so I just realized I’m liquifying into the mud, slowly trudging my thighs through until they are sludge, my torso barrels on with force pushing forward into the future. I transcend(-s, -ing, -ed). I am one. I am all. I am a puddle, a looking glass, a point in time, the infinite pivot. I am here