In the throes of
cost-benefit
analysis paralysis,
I change my mind.
Give me a nudge,
in the right direction,
just enough to budge,
and overcome the friction.
Pivot after pivot,
like I’m double-jointed,
but I’m too rigid
to be a contortionist.
In the midst of
figuring it all out,
I think twice.
I’ll come around again,
as I move along the bend.
In a moment of clarity I ask,
is this just how it is
forever, then?
I’ve begun to understand myself,
then I thought better of it.
Candy-striped prowler
among the tiger lilies —
waiting for the next insect
and unshakable idealist
who doesn’t understand
when something is too good
to be true.
When you only have swords,
everything looks like
it could use a little
off the top.
It appears you’ve been caught,
trespassing on my petals
and I’m very sorry for
the inconvenience,
but I’ll have to
cut you down.
There’s no hostility,
I’m just doing what
comes naturally.
My own, not quite accurate,
reenactment
of Judith Beheading
Holofernes.
You may never
step in the same river twice,
but it feels
all too familiar
to tread water.
We’re up to our knees
and it seems
we’ll be bogged-down
for a while.
You must accept
that if you get down and dirty,
you’re bound to leave
some footprints.
Press on, press on —
the adventure doesn’t end
because our shoes are scuffed,
our pants
caked with dirtclods,
our hair more mussed
than when we just woke up.
The world is your canvas,
and you are equal parts
artist and explorer-
this morning is a once-in-a-lifetime
opportunity
to simply live.
Just make sure,
upon your return,
that you don’t track any mud
on your clean carpets.
There’s a time and a place
for that.
Despite the flashiness,
try as it might,
lightning never strikes
the same place twice.
Power without focus
is just bluster.
Clocks, especially
the broken ones,
are much more consistent
than that.
But with nothing set in motion,
a steady hand
does not impress.
When the gears move synchronously
tooth-by-interlocking-tooth,
we can read deeply
into the kinesics.
To your horror
you may find
some things in common
with the automatons.
We all know the truth —
imitator,
yet another simulacra
lost in the wrong end
of the uncanny valley,
you tell yourself.
But who’s more convincing?
Rows upon rows
of identical 3-bedroom homes
say “success,”
but where are all the
happy families?
Wrought-iron statues
depicting long-dead
historical figures
say “tradition,”
but what happened
to all the sculptors
and scholars?
An assembly line of shining,
suped-up cars —
plastic fenders
sprayed with glinting chromium
paint says “progress,”
but what have we
left behind?
A wide-open field
of gleaming
gilded lilies swaying
in the breeze
says “prosperity,”
but where did all the food go?
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We could learn so much from each other.
We’d tell and retell
our favorite stories,
take a walk in the park
and have a drink in the bar.
Finally, we’ve met
each other’s equal and opposite,
but there’s one catch:
we must stay at arms-length.
I want to know
your perspective
but all this time
with no contact —
there’s too much pent up
energy.
We could tear-up space-time
or wake the neighbors
both would be pretty rude of us.
I wish we could
have just one friendly meeting
without annihilating
everything.
Don’t get too close.
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I’m convinced that
if I got to see purgatory,
it would have those
dim old fluorescent lights
like in the dentist’s office.
Coffee tables
adorned with Styrofoam cups
and nondescript vases
full of plastic flowers.
I will fall apart before they do.
And even with all of those
ancient magazines
to read,
I wonder if I’d find the time.
My crossed legs,
already well acquainted
with pins and needles,
would dance in place.
Caught in the vacuum
of stasis.
In this case,
I’m just fine with the cold comfort
of “could be worse.”
At a crossroads
between appointments,
waiting for my turn.
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Though we were different,
we were not mismatched.
I always admired,
how the things
that would stop me
in my tracks,
rolled right off your back.
While onlookers may say
that I was clad in armor,
made from the “skin of my teeth,”
you did much more
for me.
And though we were not equals,
you and I made great partners.
All-in for every
moment under the flame.
You made making it bearable
look easy as could be,
and I put my energy
where it was most needed.
And though we were not the same,
we fit nicely together.
Forgery begets forgery,
begets forgery,
to the point that
even the watchful eye begins
to doubt itself.
Infinite renewal is not
continuous preservation —
what we forget accrues
and crystallizes.
The patina looms
the colors wash-out
and dry-up,
leaving behind bleached bones
and shadows.
Gaps grow
into gorges,
cleaved apart by
refrozen murk.
Even garbled noise and static,
is buffed away
by graininess.
The record becomes the message.
If you wanted to see it so bad,
you should have been there
when it happened.
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It happened again.
When you can’t undo
you can retrace your steps.
“Walk me through it,”
you hear from right behind you,
it was your own tail insisting.
But your directions
fall on deaf ears –
your great fear
is that you’ve now
lost your place.
But it’s right
under your nose,
tantalizingly close —
I know that feeling well.
“What are you not getting?”
It’s always a game of catch-up
or keep away.
Maybe you can tell,
I don’t have all the answers,
I thought I’d been
making waves,
but all I’ve done is dig ruts
and kick-up dust.
Let’s try again.
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