{Poem #9 is about the eclipse that happened yesterday and is aptly named The Eclipse}
“Yeah, Ill definitely watch them, it, the orby orbs, our
friends, the sun and moon...”
Memorably annular and we all gaze skyward and say: “Oh my,
look at it” while our subtext, in contrast, screams: “Look how rare it is! What
is my reaction? What should I be saying to the world about it? I really should
tweet, post, foist it upon the manacled masses, the misanthropic dreamers and
their dripping liquidic juxtapositions.”
“Fucking look up, Brenny!”
Somewhere in the middle the two spheres of thought collide
as the two spheres collide and it is said: “This refracted ballet needs to be
recorded forever or I might, I might never remember its…its… I don’t have time
to think about ‘its’! I’m busy recording it.”
“Look fucking up, Brenny!”
Later, in amongst the hanging gardens, the greens and blues
of the information super waste of time answer my questions to show how impervious
to argument I am highway, I see them, it, the dance and it is wonderful; yes,
it was wonderful while I was in bed too. It was always wonderful.
“I’m all shook up, Brenny Brenny Brenny.”
But I didn’t go and I missed 130 million people say: “sugoi
ne.” I was in bed not quite dreaming about the fact that I’m in bed and my
wishes never manifested into the forgetfulness – they just hung there like the
hanging shadow of our beautiful orby orbs, our friends, the sun and moon.
No comments:
Post a Comment