April 24, 2018

they still collect rubbish and recycling during raptures ... #NaPoWriMo2018 Day 24

photo by EJR © 

photo by EjR ©

what have we done 
morning run stretch light 
pink clouds slow burst 
thirsting with desires 
this is what everyone burns with 
our prayers 
were up ups and away 
go flies and kites named Icarus 
for Love has wings 
eight strings twelve branches 
one tree and why 
we are told only 
one peoples chosen 
at a time 

this morning will come wearing the same ugly mask 
and we will be found as having nothing 
extra or out of the ordinary 
in our pockets, bellies, asses and mouths 
nothing that could discern our hearts as having held Love 
nothing that could place us at the crime scene 
any discovery 
of us being alive 
in the moment 
is pure conjecture 
and a speculative danger 
to our well being 
in a sea 
of modern 

I see 
a fool 
in the mirror 
every morning 
a smart and handsome 
mother fucker at that 
in that I know no hat 
no cap can cover 
my stupid head enough 
to make me smarter 
than I ever need to be 
in Love 
with being, me 
right now 


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