This is how it feels: it feels labyrinthine, it feels cluttered. It looks like a table covered with objects, some of which correlate, some of which are a pile of fruit and vegetables on a round, red dish, where the dust has licked along its ruddy edges and left evidence of its path. It looks like a nearly-empty plastic orange pill bottle with mustard-hued pills that want re-ordering, it looks like the rudderless head attached to the body of ills of questions of newfound hatred of commas.
It feels angry and dashed and it feels drenched to its core in shame. Where is the shining All-American confidence? Where is the rising above? Not in the anger. Not in the gutted homelessness. Not there.
It wants peace. Perfection. It wants courage and steadfast consistent high-flung head strength. It wants sex. And desire. And it wants its way.
It wants its way.




oh. (breathless)
oh.
you got down to my truth.
could it be, d.?
is my truth your truth?
i think it must be, it must be.
love to my kindred.
Posted by: slouchy | October 29, 2010 at 10:47 AM
It is what you let it be.
It doesn't want to be in control anymore, it wants you to control it.
Mostly, it wants you to see you for you. Not it as you.
When the rain starts and the days get shorter, it gets stronger.
Go get some cute boots and show it who's the bossy biatch in hizouse.
It will ride shotgun for awhile and then move to the backseat.
Soon, you will drop it off on the side of a desolate road to be picked up by someone else.
Sometimes, it's about the journey. Notsomuch the destination.
Posted by: Erin | October 30, 2010 at 02:49 PM
wishing you peace today
Posted by: pj | November 01, 2010 at 03:50 AM
I hope it gets peace. And sex.
Posted by: patois | November 01, 2010 at 06:26 AM
I look at my row of empty and full pill bottles and wonder where my ego is. Is it hidden within them? Can I find it, with or without them? Do they give me the confidence to look, or do they shame me, saying, "We give you the you that you are-- accept it, or go on your crazy way." It feels a lot like shame.
I wish you luck in rising above. After all, I like your subject lines.
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