April 9th, 2010

Free Child

Napowrimo 09/30

Drink coffee.
Look at the blue curtain,
Notice the fan,
Quickly scratch head again.
Belly rises and fall,
Tears entering behind eye lids,
Fight to keep them there,
And why?
Drink coffee.
Grab pen,
Look at the blooming orchid across the room,
Think about paper,
Be annoyed by that thought,
Notice you’ve been writing.
Think about the people who didn’t give you the respect you deserved,
Which is different from being right,
Which is different from making other wrong.
Think about the people who are interested in your life.
Their questions,
Their gaze,
Their hand on the small of your back.
Think and wonder if wherever you go you are invisible.
Play at being visible,
Play at taking up space,
Play at whatever life hands you.
Fear of cancer.
All the dying bodies.
1 degree of separation.
Mad at humans.
Mad at corporations,
Mad at the spider that couldn’t climb out of the bathtub and died.
How do we choose to bring new humans into a world,
Which we know is disappearing.
Apologize again.
And then again.
I don’t mean hug a tree.
Not enough time.
Missing a deadline.
Catching up to the fire.
Sad now.
Trying to get through it.
Drink coffee.
The corner of the room waits.
Do this for weeks.
Quotes of wisdom on every page.
Don’t flip.
Bathroom break.
Very important.
Stomach churning.
Take everything personally.
Dishwasher hum,
Summer forever falls,
That will be me too,
Chest to belly,
The ringing of the bells,
All this longing,
The empty breakfast plate,
The scent of a peach,
Sweet and cold,
Not at all complete or perfect,
But here,
Taking a full sip.