Gleaming purple dream come true
It was the hand brakes that got me
Unconsciously pedaling while braking
Complaining about faulty brakes
Clenched hands battling pressing legs
Do I approve of the press?
Of course, the answer is no
Certainly also the answer is moot
Inescapably pressing
The omnipresent foe
And always the hero of my story
Their tragedy opened ancient wounds.
Long ago fossilized in thick lead vaults
(Have you ever seen Napoleon’s tomb?).
Now pain is exhumed as the heat of loss melts
Glaciers’ frigid layers into streaky puddles.
Aqua tears flow into forgotten gullies.
Now it’s knotted stomach and fitful sleep.
Isn’t this the definition of Advent?
Or reclaimed doughy tenderness?
The price of ubiquitous window peering.
“Vicarious pain is real,” said the missing limb.
Now those crusty lacerations bleed thick fresh
Blood oozing red, raw and open in the new heat.
And dreams touchably vivid in anthropomorphized
Humiliation and sympathetic sadness steep black.
Now I’ve picked sides (my side).
Imagined reasons.
Crafted stories.
But as a wise man said back when my heart was torn out
“The fact that the sympathizers like you better only goes so far.”
So I’m sad for me (or her) all over again.
Immersed in siding
The skin of the house
Cement solid sheathing
Thin veneer wrap neatly
Obscuring all that hides
Below the surface
Framing tape caulk wrap
Holding the interior
From bursting out
Chimneys skylights dormers
Preventing the exterior
From dripping through
Windows Doors Vents
Leaking through the world
We are all the Iran hostages now
In college a classmate’s father was one
We wore ribbons on our gowns at graduation
In solidarity with her sad face
Honestly we weren’t really paying attention
But when I woke today it was clear
Vivid dreams of dark halls
Windowless dim red-lit rooms
I followed a young soccer player
A beautiful girl barely an adult
Down a dingy hall with carpeted floor
Striding ahead of me backpack and
Ponytail and bare feet rushing to a plane
“The tan is gone from your feet.” I said
“Just two days ago they were deep brown”
She glanced dismissively in denial
Somehow in her tan’s disappearance I knew
Our lives have reset to a new normal
With alien ships hovering overhead
The anxious news a streaming obsession
A lifeline offering little hope
Chaos surrounds the bloviator
Like Pigpen’s dusty cloud bubble
We watch his grandiosity with the sound off
Wondering how to escape
It was pink this morning
The sky
Before the sun came up
I walked the windows
Bursting clouds in grapefruit pink
It was perfect this morning
The coffee
Before my dream fog left
I inhaled the aroma
Generous beans in savory nectar
Before today’s news
Before the “Oh My God”
I bathed in a sunrise show
I swam in coffee ambrosia
Amidst the daily trepidation
I’m still here
Our warm tight sanctuary
Home
Our safe place from the horrifying
Turn our world has taken toward
Exclusion and hate daily
Disturbed
Azure feckless bluebird’s head-butt
Repeatedly flying torpedo style
Banging the huge clear glass
Futility
A winged Sisyphus’ hopeless effort
A beautiful kamikaze fowl missile
While taking up residence
Offered in loving charity
The vibrant flock observes
Unmoved
A bird-brain suicide
Silently
Complacently
Complicitous
Watching
Another
Senseless
Demise
I almost cried again this morning
Reading an article about police
Surveillance in Slate 5 ways to
Think about future technology
Point 5 “the President does not
Control local police departments,
He (and someday She)” that’s when a
Lump in my throat the tears close
Behind is it the reality of who
He is and his suggested police state?
Or the reminder of our country’s sad
Decision when they rejected “she”?
Passing on a decent, good, thoughtful
Woman for the buffoon who needs
A victory tour because his ego can’t
Abide the fact that he lost by
three million clicks yet still he
Derides the press as dishonest while
He spews lies and venom and hate
He won my tears every day so close
to the spilling over all we’ve lost
Abandoned beauty will sink or swim
Stunning colors left to their own devices
Unflappable lonely blooms running wild
Elbowing strength in butterfly iridescence
A splashy kaleidoscope petal party
Sweet flourishing garden surprise
My annual pilgrimage
Summer’s last gasp
Nearing fall transition
Muted green surrounds
Rising perpetual yellow
Lofty towering blooms
Turning faces to sun
Field upon field of gold
Tawny tones creeping
Warning season’s change
My favorite unrequited sports redemption story
A second (or third) chance unfolding on my TV
My beloved charismatic bombastically handsome
Dreadlocked quarterback unexpectedly appears
In orange and white with hopes of reclaiming
Reputation while stealing a win from my Birds
While drowning in the tumult of actual politics
I missed his trip from politics to rock & roll
I root for a dreamy successful orange rebirth
I need an all American mid-western come back
Feel free to start the renaissance next week
mannersworld 