in a yellow-dust attic in thebroom closet mansionof my mindlies a metal chesthard and cold withthe etches of previous incarnationsscratch marks and blemishesfrom the harassment of past affairs-and yet it lies fully opena still pond from early dusk'smountain streamrippling with every passing insects'beating wingswrithing in the emission of its ownceaseless pining.
----------------------------------------------------------------------The sun shines brightly on a freshly formed patch of dirt, slowing tires, irreversible havoc on a dust top side stream alley.Spinning wheels show gold and red in the glow of tilted light. Our friends are silent, our friends are tame, our friends arenot the same as us. We forget in time that it's all a bowl of spaghetti- a simple mash up of basic flavors, a hint of exoticherbs, but mostly just thick, dull substance. It's not a race, just wait while water boils and then you're done. Patchworkcompass pointing always north, until you get there and what is next. It is ice and plastic and dim lighting.One step after another, leading us forward but really just far from where we were.Apologies for my disgust, it seems the tides have gotten the better of me. But when the sun goes down and moon goesup and nothing is left but the darkness of our solitude, the blight of our purposelessness, it is hard to ignore theimpending nothingness that awaits.Gib jab, blib blab, what does nothingness matter? This is what we have to experience. This is what we have to live. Thisis our only chance. Why argue, why stop to think, why not just run full tilt towards the wall if the wall is what we've beengiven?There is beauty to be seen in frozen tundra. I know that, I still see that. There is perfection in a cold October day, walkingbriskly with hands tight in pockets, crushing blood red leaves beneath boots. Fireflies still scatter on the wind, mockingus to come and take a chance. We don't have to live in one world or the other. The isolated nature dwelling child (withfriends in imagination) or the isolated urban dwelling adult (with friends in appearance). These can both be part of onewhole. It is crucial to me that they be compatible, because I cannot have one or the other. Life would not be sustainablewithout imagination and animal shapes in the clouds, just as it would not be sustainable without jobs and creaturecomforts.It's burning now, the chance to see clearly, and yet the incapability to do so. That would entail a restructuring of theconscious mind. The subconscious already knows what it needs, what it would chose to see. But the conscious, adult,human mind is racked with restrictions, guidelines, masked figures we must follow. How can two beings reside in onebody? In reality, there are so many beings, more than I can list. Child, adult, subconscious, conscious, depression,happiness, panic, calm, night, day, love, hate, excitement, nonchalance, arrogance, self-doubt, music, math, machine,