she said...

Illustration by Fritz Willis ©

she said, she liked the color the blue

relax, it is nearing

the end of Winter

someday we’ll color eggs

don’t worry about the entire world

throw open the windows instead

cook things on high

fry an onion

tell yourself

shadows

are leaving

carry torches

ready to burn with

what you want

she stops me

and I sing

dead things

dead things

dead things

skin cells falling

into open mouths

legions of mites

easing into a neglect

of my own humanity

every apathy I can master

burning me to no end

I hear 

turn right

then left

then right again

I swerve my head

I bow to isolation

to individual creation

I auto-pilot survival

to a slave nation state

I cling quiet, irate

to any relevance

I can thieve

as this world

gone mad 

is beyond

my comprehension

overabundance

and starvation are heard

every day, in the same sentence

we constantly broadcast

piece-mealed salvations

with narrower and narrower

rationalizations

we sell ourselves

we deserve more

we often choose

foggy recollection

over truth’s sharp

easy bleed

its diamond blade

of water and time

is our orbital memory

our emission 

of will and gravity

shaping our desires

into everything

we put up for sale

behind the glass

behind the mask

the weather channel says

you want

you need

conceptual electrons

as a designed means

to store the faces, places,

the spaces between

every death

and birth

in the rain

sleet or snow

we know

may or

may not be

coming your way

she says

sighing, sitting down

a high Sun

is gathering toward

the mirror and

the way the trees look

says its backwards early October

already looking over its shoulder 

for Summer again

she tells me 

not to give up

just yet, Spring's

easy weather

rich yolks

and shells

warmly broken 

are all waiting

to say hello

EJR ©