It was dark and raining.
“There’s something outside.”
“Did you see someone?”
“No. It’s not a person.”
I tried peering through the rain soaked window.
“It’s upset with you,
and you’re going to feel it from the inside.”
As I turned the corner my body was forced forward.
My mind blurred in a frenzied pace.
I had learned so much.
To become accommodating
can mean to lose yourself.
Be guarded with your compass
when the carrot has been lowered.
How do we shiver our mind’s rebuke
when adhering to today’s resolve
It was The I who had done this
And it was long before yesterday
when I knew what had been done
i dig deeply
the complexity of it all
Hello from Maine. Taken by Matt’s iPhone.
As a child I rode the bus to school.
I would crawl under the large green seats
and slither my way, under and around legs,
sneakers, boots, and the giggles of my friends.
I liked the dirt that covered my clothes
from the floor of the bus.
I liked the feeling of breaking the rules.
I think of the first office I worked in after
graduating college. I think of how many
cubicles fit into the square footage of the office
and about how I looked when poking my head
above the cubicle wall; always, there would be
at least one other head doing the same thing,
no doubt wondering how to break out of this
matrix and go back to crawling under seats
while listening to the giggles and laughter of
Try to think why you know it,
why you feel it,
why you remember.
A piece of paper has
something about none of this
and a little of you finds more of
nothing than a paper.
(Love you Gavin. You were in my office asking me to not break your new snake while I wrote this.) 1/16/20
It’s 30 degrees. This is literally what I’m doing right now. Mid-day, Friday November the 8th. We’re burning downed branches on our property. Megan just went inside to take a shower. And yes, that’s whiskey in the background.
I live an enchanted life. If my childhood torture taught me anything, it’s that societal rules don’t actually exist.
Make your own.
We’re on to something here.
The hitch, the ever present self
puzzling over deliveries of deja vu
Placing clarity over never
It’s as if we’ve nearly got it
Maybe some do,
And maybe my coffee is burnt.