October 6, 2014

absurdity in the viewfinder...

photo by Brent Clarke/High Noon Photography ©

existentialism is a stomach bacteria rail yard in America
(for a memory I have of Sonja Sanchez)

Bergson defended
our free will
with an idea
that perpetual motion time
was a malleable, permeable
and elastic membrane

Sartre was watching
hidden in the folds
before sunrise
he wanted
an indefinable
for himself

humanity ought be
he thought
yearning and pours
learning what pores
choose intake or exhale

there is more
than a slake
peddle ware
parade kingdom
and throne
before cage
at stake
in order for
disorder to be

we were always
hungry for later
right now
we scurried
into that last box car
lurching slowly away
on the far western end
of the yard

we would dream
coal fire huddled leaning
preening our substantial empty
a can of beans waiting
our pockets full of fingers

inside our minds
we were sating and sinning
appetizing our wide eyed look
we were gambling for dinner
we were entertained
we feared and loathed
ever being completely still
we were time
we wore it
we swore by it
we knew
the difference
between a door and a window
between facticity and quietism
we sought clarity and milky glass
between this world
of reflection and flesh
between bones, skins
and articulations
between heavenly bodies
and what pools desire unseen
between nations rising
and their partners in decline
between moving goods on iron spines
and stretching o'er what
once was a pioneer land
feeling our way home
between a few moments of sleep
and the promise of dawn again
between stolen handfuls of Apollo
and our bellies full of Venus