Monday, September 14, 2015

composition notebook

A cave

And in this cave

the essentials:

A box of old baseball cards that were kept in and out of bicycle spokes

A memory of a backyard football soft spiraling along a father's arc

Two empty bottles of Dramamine

A photograph of You and one of the Lovers whom you delighted and suffered in never understanding

Ghastly face, the one you made when remembering it all and not being able to do a damn thing about it. The time is running out to fix things that can not be fixed. The opportunity to correct is dim. There is not enough energy and not enough time yes time, that gold.

Your own reflection in soft aquifer pool. Close your own eyes. This is all you own. And this is the last of it now.

Wake. Dispersed. You were so silly to think it all was dependent on the toil of the physical world. Like if in a dream you panicked and then awoke to physical life. Now, it's like that. Only, physical life becomes the spirit world

What you did in the physical world is perfect. What you do now is prone to eternity. We were all so lucky. The physical life, like a cup of coffee in the grand scheme of things.

It never agreed with my heartbeat.

And you always ordered decaf.

And merrily merrily merrily we all cry Love