13.1k views, 2xBest Poetry Period. A nothing from nowhere cast words to a world wide wind. |
By unknown gravitation, levitation, they seem migrate everywhere, when not found heeled to head, hung to shirt neck; toying with me, a mindless man, be-fogged, squinting uncorrected ability to scan a scene piled perilously, from here to there. Haphazard, shorn, mangled documents wedge within, and upon, spiraled, stapled, and glued, blue-lined pads, mingle with half-fallen-down books, a phone not charging, two tablets full ready & honed instruments discarded, collecting in puzzled places as hidden 3D images in my two-dimensional, sub-reality; when she walks up to me, bewildered, arm stretched out and says, 'here, you looking for these?' It happens more often than it should. But, no need panic, as I'm accustomed, with four more pair still wandering, waiting (re)discovery somewhere within, and possibly without, jungled mazes of this house. 4.10.22 formerly titled: 'Looking For These?' run on sentences in my poetry can signify several things. in this case, anxiety and the endless game of hunting for what we have lost, need recover, including sanity. following was typed with no aid for vision, making me think I need go on another safari, especially if I want to edit. |