i'm so tired
of wanting to become something --
grand designs
doing pirouettes in my little head --
i just
need
more time
to think things through
plastic tines
stab at forks
in the road
silly you!
trying to stop the decision-making process
like a child
with a rhyme
speaking of the devil,
for a limited time only,
**** the walking dread
that paces at the foot of your being
like a thing in need --
how? thought you'd never ask ---
i'll get to that, in due time
-- i will say this though: it's not with an ax
or bow
or some moralized TV show
nope
nothing like that
the need to be
to be --
that
is the imperative --
timeless
tasks tasked with go-forth --
we feed on it --
always pressing forward
always-already doing things,
going places, lurching concern,
consuming steps steps steps
listen
progress is
a stone alone inside my pocket
-- watch it
bloom tumultuous
into a decision to be undone ----
I am
The backward startle
Flesh made text
Know this:
All will be retraced till
All that remains is
a waiting cursor --
Blinking blinking
Blank page staring
Into your you --
The mess undressed, ****** --
Don't unfuck it --
Allow it --
Let it ******* for a time
Then go hardly softly into the night
With steps alighting
Bold events of past doings lit
Given another chance
The was made present
A specter sent
To turn the insides of your bones
Into channels --
Canals of then-time (makes sense)
Get to know the script
Then flip it
Budge its molecular structure
See its words squirm
Make its serifs recoil
And strike at your command
Crazy? Yes
Impossible? Perhaps
But your verse must be heard
The play goes on and on and on
Until you decide
To interrupt it