4.4

in perfect time

tomorrow is easter

tomorrow is a birthday

there is pollen everywhere, coating the keys

and the trees are in bloom

and there are lilies in a pink vase on my desktop

sitting next to my drink in a green cup with an orange straw

in the sunshine

revisiting the playlist of seven years ago

the bold move that brought me to now

a pretense of mastery that left me humble and unassuming

casting the net wide

what was caught

what I brought home

my legs are aching and my face twitches

in anticipation of another iteration

I was sitting here when I let everything go

when I let myself go

and the swells

and the clouds

and the urging

and the being shamed for desire

having to be so brave

having to be so alone

cigarettes on late night balcony plastic chairs

jazz music

whispered conversations only half understood

museum windows and climbing vines, a trellis

an ashtray heart, used and well worn

concrete, cats that insist the screen door be opened

and pollen that sticks to everything

plastic shelves and cups of dirt

green leaf fat head monster plant

clandestine searches, laptop fires in deep night

the glow of abandoned pajamas

and hidden muffles of high hat exhilaration

exhalation

adulation

adoration

explanation

small and soft and holding

a tender mouth

of jewels and soft cotton

a direct desire of oceanic proportions

a wave of delirious certainty

to want and be wanted

with such salivating clarity

precisely intended

there's a feeling like needing to set an example

no thing is reliable

no thing can be trusted

hackles and creeping

there's a light can be seen to show the way

but who goes there with you

no one

there is power streaming

pulsing feeling, thumping energy

manic persistence

somewhere out there,

a precipice

it might come sooner than later, but

there's no need to worry about that now

the consequences are beyond control

and the aftermath is manageable

this is a well known play

we've been here before

not scared anymore

see it through as consistently as possible

it is an easy ride now, coasting on the initial drive

aftershocks, ripples, undulations

who's hitching a ride

what baggage is being carried forth

can the pace be maintained

we made such beautiful castles in the sky

such delightful stories we told to each other

we put our diamond slippers on, we're half awake

there is a time for mourning

when the light is long and weak, and

the shadows compete for attention

there is a place for pastels

a place for lack of clarity on the color wheel

the slide, the fuzzy pedal, a language you don't quite know yet

there is a time and a place for those long shadows

looking, and looking

look

preach

the limits of tolerance

preach beyond the boundary of comfort

preach instability

flexibility

preach the allowance of uncertainty

advocate

the radical acceptance of the unknown

take everything and nothing for granted

take it in your mouth and hold it close

revel, and revelry, and revelation

acceleration

intubation

altercation

ambition

allowance

urging that is co-opted by the power that be

you want to become something, but

what is it you should be

come

you don't have to think too hard about it

just go with the flow, the map is not the journey

bright lights don't move feet

there's a ground down there somewhere

nevermind the screeching

religious metaphors call you to the curb

and you try not to be too preachy

because who can set an example these days

who has the authority to judge

or abandon

with delight

bootstraps

there was a time when shit was very real

quite literal, and the nosebleeds were only somewhat concealed

it was a very deliberate time

in which there were no unprecedents

no unexpected moves

the intention was clear and writhing

there were claws

and long minutes of certainty

everything proceeded

according to plan or not

nosebleeds, and quiet watching

my chair

my spotlight

my muscles and flexing satellites

my seat of longing

feet flat on the floor

spectator, present and accounted for

a ghostly observer

voices make assumptions

deserts and rivers wind through polarities

we could ride the range

or sell down the length of it

questions of ownership and authority

but then there's the speaking

the question of who is asking

who makes the call

what siren song might come along this time

will it be another repetition parroting

and then all the sudden

a driving engine that makes waves

frothy wakes

salty licks of spray and speed

refracted light that lifts and plunges

nonsense travel

a warbling certainty, strange banner horns

a quarter buys a bond

in a banked sunshine afternoon

the air conditioning doesn't work and

the seats are cracked

but there's change in the dashboard

and the lighter isn't a decoy

scratched sunglasses and

the light flickers just a bit

low tire pressure

gasoline fumes and ashtrays

an endless future of plastic diamond rings

there's grass, and a cool shadow

someone else is driving

maybe some kind of syncopation and

the moon runs alongside the passenger window

grass smell, wet

stretch echoes

road rash, rug burns

the trees reach long arms,

uncertain embrace

nighttime sigh

it gets weird then,

lopsided and fecund

a dark place that cannot be seen

but is full and fermented

at the bottom of the bed

toes and feet dry rub close together

shoulder creak and neck arch

a dream hanging pillow cloud horizon

tickled twisted steps laughing

passing possibilities and

efforts beyond assumptions

a blow of sand across chalk lines

giggling beams of light

labor of bringing forth

asymmetrical violence of longing

just within striking distance

brought back to ground,

thick in the craw,

indebted

deep, deep down it goes

and I wondered,

with great admiration.