5
March 17, 2020
Taking command? Becoming
A stalwart? The efforts have forestalled.
Constant exhaustion, a tickle in the throat and
Hydration is looking less and less like the answer.
They’ll be happier there
In that house
With more things to do. You can’t help but wonder
How dusty it must be.
Keep playing the hits,
Who put together these lists?
Keep keeping lists, making lists
Is how to combat all this. All kinds of lists.
Felt in such a groove only moments
Ago. It’s all grooved, the various
Equipment. Each piece maintains its unique
Grooves but there’s order in it all.
In a way there isn’t out there.
How can you account for the rapid
Proliferation? Everyone has their message to spread,
Thinking they’ll be the next Charlize, overtake her even.
The problem isn’t this individual, though they’re
Quite misguided in their pursuit. But however
Cross-eyed they may be, the real travesty is
Charlize herself, for convincing all the
Individuals that what they have to say matters.
It’s a dangerous thing. Dreamers.
Don’t tell me to
Take a breath, when the dialogue you envision
Yourself saying is above your pay grade.
Acknowledge the hypocrisy.
Their view of him is negative, he’s a negative person.
Someone has to identify the desperate shortage of talent.
To be perfectly candid. Go
Ahead and cry, take the flags off the
Walls. You yourself cry. You lose track of resolutions
But gain grain.
Many years later it’s a neat room.
It is! It’s interesting, the dreamer’s little
Room. How long is he going to put on
This difficult front? Difficult
For the others that cross paths with
The dreamer, but always the kindling
Of spirited conversation at a dinner party.
Special gifts adorn the little room.
Beautiful little gifts, some handmade.
Nothing God-given, oh how swell to possess
An intangible given by he himself, forget
All the hard work.
Hold your breath
This is the training we do now
Sound the alarm!
The marauder’s returned with his black little shoes.
He’s identified the weakest link,
The one who couldn’t handle his asparagus,
Choked on it violently. He’s here to eat all
The lemon-cookies. Delicious lemon cookies.
The marauder was a dreamer once
Too. But he was wise in a sense,
Recognizing his own futility and
Giving it up without having to tell everybody.
The marauder’s daughter too
Will one day give it all up.
But on this night she merely asks to share his bed
And the marauder obliges.