Carrying too much weight.
The cushioning towards my center tore,
gave out. Through body, and horn:
it took more
than a year’s worth to begin
to make it right. Left
only with this Self, my dual decades of rage,
and teeth eroded, splintered, crumbled and yanked.
Ghosts of bone and necrotic nerve-cores.
It took too long: two long
decades, of cadence mangled and re-formed;
decadence forgotten, trashplastic wrappings and feelings forlorn…
But here,
here we are.
Pre-equinox;
nighttime invernal bite of the air—
cherished pleasure, sacrum to throat:
where?
Here we are.
The cars breeze by, slower at dark;
like fat fireflies, the jets overhead stream under stars.
Crunch of reeds stops as I stare:
water black, still but for the passage of Northern Swans
returned for what will be new blooming.
Sodium lamp hums; I sway.
Breathe.
