Event Horizon

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I feel it,

I feel it

as I play this game of chicken

inching up

to the point of no return.

I’m pulled closer and closer

yet the gravity of the situation

never quite dawns on me.

My vertebrae, adaptable and flexible

to a point,

find rest

tracing the shape of the pilot’s seat.

I’ve sat for too long,

and need to stretch my legs.

I’ve come all this way,

and, out of nowhere

I’ve crossed the threshold and

I’m in too deep.

Before anyone I’d ever heard of

was born,

a far-off star collapsed dead

and left a void of

crushing fury,

the wrath of a blind idiot God.

For the crime of intrusion

on His private domain,

I will be welcomed in

for eternity.

And I will be pulled even further

beyond my limits.

I’m just a wayward thread

yanked from its seam,

falling into

the great abyss

I feel it,

I feel it.

Living Fossils

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I am the way

God made me,

nothing more

and nothing less.

We all have our cracks,

yet I am not broken enough

to fix.

I may be stuck in my ways,

only because I know

they work well.

I’m not looking

to be understood.

Things have changed,

new ages

came and went,

but I’m still here,

rock-solid.

Time has told me

only one thing,

that I am well-designed.

To endure

means a lot more

in the long run

than to conquer.

Rarely do I reflect

on what has brought me here,

I know only

how to survive.

“The fish is that last to know

it lives in water.”


In the Flesh

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I wish the fire

in the pit of my stomach

would warm my heart

during cold nights,

but the heat

doesn’t quite

travel that far.

I belch up smoke,

because I am only skin and bones.

My Achilles’ tendon,

sore and raw

from javelin wounds

that won’t heal,

because I can’t stop

picking at the scabs.

I am only human.

If only I could

power wash

the spaces

between the folds in my brain.

Unravel it, rinse it off

and wring it out —

but it has to stay

in the case

because it doesn’t travel well.

I am the sum

of all my defective parts,

inextricably stitched together

with connective tissue,

take me or leave me.


Mantis

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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.

Heaven is Under Our Feet

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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.

Echolocation

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Soaring on

streams of consciousness.

I’m speaking up

speaking up —

even if you’re not tuned-in.

Haven’t you heard?

I’m broadcasting

so that one way

or another

we’ll find each other.

I’ll spread the word.

Come dusk

we’ll find a spot

with great acoustics,

and sing our hearts out.

I’m speaking up,

speaking up,

because I have a voice.

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Cash Crops

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When you have what you need

you live in abundance.

Like clockwork,

we move,

shed, molt,

go dormant

and emerge anew,

something ventured,

something gained

and something left behind.

To sow and reap,

you must

slash and burn,

you must preen and prod

and above all else,

you must stay diligent.

Unceremonious

we cast aside the chaff,

the husks and hulls —

our daily bread’s

last line of defense.

Nothing is redundant.

Time isn’t always borrowed,

it can be rented,

or invested,

or leveraged.

In boomtimes and busts

harvest arrives,

whether you’re ready

or withered on the vine.

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Disintegration

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Watch closely,

as I fall apart at the seams.

Every crease

giving way,

every fiber of my being

unwound.

For now

I am the dust at your feet,

the gust of wind

that tosses your hair,

the sunlight

on your shoulders —

I am boundless,

the open sky,

the ether.

A crash of lightning

announcing itself one moment,

and gone without a trace

the next.

Listen carefully,

the thunder tells all,

from a roar to a murmur

the sky shutters,

the air reverberates.

Like the rainclouds,

I wander in circles,

I’ll change my shape

and return another day.

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Carrion

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Cherry blossom petals

blowing daintily,

landing scattershot

carpeting the lawn with freckles

all the way down —

ashes to ashes.

Mounds of blushing porcelain

find rest

atop

a tire-marked

fox carcass

by the roadside.

“I will bring you home.”

The vulture does no harm,

it does only what it must.

Soaring high

with a keen eye,

for the wary.

An unending journey

to find the lost,

and guide them

back to the origin.

All long walks

must end

somewhere.

Carried on updrafts,

petals blow past

grazing deer

gazing fondly

at napping fawns —

dust to dust.

Compound Eyes

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The fly on the wall

watches closely,

focused on

nothing at all

yet ready for anything.

Buzzing wings,

hundreds of flutters

in the span of a heartbeat,

fling the fly on the wall

down the hall

to a new perch,

a fresh perspective

for further study.

10,000 telescopes per eye,

surveil you.

They tell all —

giving forewarning,

performing troubleshooting.

A mind,

with no capacity to judge

speculate

or daydream

makes life amongst

the clutter

easier.

Unbothered

by raised fists

and rolled-up magazines,

until they’re impossible to ignore —

it evades every strike,

like trying to wrestle

a wisp

of smoke.

Never quite

out of sight

out of mind —

I too will watch,

you may be small

but this house

doesn’t have room

for you.