Hinterland

I am caught in the callous
country of language.
Borderline. Fragments.
Waking words. Clarity.
The truth is there is no truth
only a moment, a thought.
I am wasting time dancing
around the periphery
like a fairy in a pink tutu
instead of hunkering
down, sinking waist
deep into the mud.
The sky is the color
of green ash, waiting
to rip open thunder,
lightning and rain.

Stand with an open hand
while a grey mourning
dove perches on a white
fence murmuring to
the cherry blossom
tree, remembering
Spring together.

Astray

What does lost look like?

Having gone astray, missed the way
Not used to good purpose, opportunity/time/labor wasted
Preoccupied
Distracted/distraught

Notebooks piled on a desk
Deadlines locking down the day
Somehow we have lost our way
Sunlight breaking through cloud cover beckons
A clock against a white wall, the red hand tick~tocks along
There is a strangle hold

Scientists have created the coldest molecule (minus 273 Celsius)
Did it just get cold in here?

I missed you yesterday, across a span of words captured on the web
You missed me too, dead pixels, corrupt links and all.
With so much new technology we hold onto radio silence. It's the safest way to exist without you.

Scientists have created the coldest chemically induced molecule and injected it into my bloodstream. It's the safest way to exist without you.

Answering the Question

I've been:
packing
drinking
watching women's soccer
making endless to do lists
resisting the urge to smoke again
huddling in bed waiting for a migraine to subside
getting my nails done in metallic purple
looking for an apartment
wishing it was Friday on a hungover Monday
raising my face to the rain on a hot humid day
remembering lost friends and lovers
mental note to pick up Pandora's prescriptions, buy her food, and clean her box
wanting, wanting, wanting to sit on a beach and watch the waves crash
resisting the urge to smash glass
stealing time with my journal to write
finding it's not enough
feeling empty staring at the blank page
careless with words
careless with time
watching the future with it's gaping maw opening wide
my tongue has gone dry
the song is stuck on pause skipping over the same word...want, want, want
the list continues endlessly stretching out unfolding down the street, getting wet under the summer rain.