Thursday, February 20, 2020

Pearl


Charity cases
Absolving of the drama

Like two dimensional theaters,
a videogame of narrative without dialogue
That is played by merely walking though

As if getting and losing money are fundamental components of the game
Like rowing a tiny boat in turbulent seas
Waiting for the next hungry pair of hands
to turn us up like so many evaporated river stones

The desert calls to me
like an electrically charged air
In the falling snow,
She whispers the hatred
Of the trivial,
in subversions of excess.

As we refrain from tearing into their marrow.
patient for the next belligerent
For the next snowstorm,
For the next little stoat to scamper off with something stupid
the next broken human to limp into our lives and be in the fucking way.
the next shitty love poem to erode the discernment of quality


and yet, our wings are greater
oft upon greater endeavors
and still, it resolves as a kind of boredom
infecting the will to continue
like a rain of micro-anxieties as the snow begins to stick
the far-off suffering of others
comes to inhabit our souls as one of our own

occupying a place that is comfortable but unwanted
as if some shellfish
bearing minerals to past transgressions,
in some iteration of comfort
beyond the reality of ‘here’ and ‘now.’