Coffee deals. Pounds of beans. Secretary State. Rain date. Approaching flight. Delight. Or fright of the intimate stare, a longing flare, silent plea of help me or love me. Fear of goodbye and disappear into the america. The con they talk about the con long time. There is no reason to break down and doubt yerself. Though strayed away from all that positiveness. He sighs, I need a break if only I had plates on that messenger I’d disappear. One mistake he told of the walk out onto the ice to the center of the lake and blew his brains out with a shot gun and lay out in the center of that lake all missing and imagined in bunches of situations but not his brains all frozen on the ice. They never found him. The ice-fishermen pass fifty feet away on snow-mobiles but feel the cold and head in and his body sinks to the bottom when spring comes or arrives on shore just like a little wave. Plausible had he not spoke of it. This other lady, this young lady he met in some two bit illegal attempt at coffee bar. If he imagined the Lady when she was younger this is how she was. But already tangled up in another boy. They make magic together. Who knows. Perhaps I met her first and lost her dead mother ring that was cut from her dead finger and avoided her calling for several seasons and now believe she understands because of distance or the tone of her voice through the telephone. Why inside the chest my heart can’t rest at ease but thumps like nervous hands the table of waiting. The transformation has occurred, is occurring rather, and the locks of her hair woven into braids seem to be wrapping around parts of me. Who is it then? That is responsible. And what. Where the definition of the malaise that even seems ridiculous and unnecessary. How the mind has a mind of it own, rather, how the heart has it’s own mind. Your icing me he could scream of course I have nothing to say. Need a pipe. Firmly and lightly, simultaneous. I feel like packing a pipe that needs to be broke in a litany. Sometimes they occur. Could we concur. Could she understand. that I don’t want a golden chain of bondage love attached to my suit coat. He knew not to move closer but did so regardless. Don’t play. He won’t play that. Not that sincerity. Doesn’t even know the true point to it all. Is that why he’s scared– or as the younger said all is about invisible dread. Smoking the grass transported the entire universe. Proof of his self-centered fear. But the wisdom pieces that he collects what he’s learned, it’s how you come back, how graceful you return. If you want to. Those assistant shamans kept on beating out the pulse of the heart of the earth but their master didn’t return. Some assumed he got lost in the other world—they didn’t think he let go of the rhythm-rope and said his farewells in his new tongue. Obviously clouded. Can’t force the merge. The urgency of the heart’s mind when it needs to be heard. But doesn’t speak with words, only moans and sighs, and you’ll never comprehend if yer not patient with it. Like a whining cat. Fuck-off stop meowing ‘cause all you want is food. I don’t want to follow you down to the kitchen and watch yer tail wrap around my leg. No it’s how you come back. There’s no reason to be nervous. State your reality as bluntly as you please. State it. State it with a period. But know that it could change. I can feel her minds eye hundreds of miles away. Patience. She is innocent. Send a prayer outside to be tolerant of one’s own heart. Everything is o.k. . The turmoil largely imagined. It’s how you come back. Fake it. Do not allow yer eyes to reveal so much. Cover them with blue glass if you must.
1996
Comments on this entry are closed.