Coffee, keys, window.
New Year's Eve in
Scottsdale
up here in my room watching
the street beyond the
crest of this machine
A room with a desk
and a bed
44 years of life
unfolding
across the page
44 years of days and the rest
insomnia here
in the richlands
watching death usurping
life
feeling the years
crawl over
the arms
the shoulders
the skin of flies
1970 warping into here
placenta laid out,
frozen and blown to dust
44 years ago
divided now by ink ribbon blood and skin
divided by
cells and makeup of liquid and solids
44 years back from now
born into dirt.
my problems are so petty. i dont understand how something as small and simple as his girl finally coming to her senses and seeing him the way i do or feeling lonely and sad as hell could mean so much to my shaky heart. there are kids whose parents are going through divorce, people who live on the streets because they have no one to turn to, and parents who work too-many hours a day just to put a meal on the table. i wish that my problems didnt seem so monumental, for i know that the day will come that a big BOOM will knock me back a few steps, and if my pointless issues cause me to dread so much, what will happen to me when the BOOM comes for me?
You
It's 3:00 am on New Year's Day. I've been singing all night, entertaining my friends at the party. And when I don't have a drop of energy left, I tuck myself in, but make the mistake of looking at my phone...one last time. Checking Prose to see what I've missed in the past six hours. There's just too much to savor. I can't put you down.
What Will Be
Uneven footing.
Standing on precipices
of uncertainty
and plateaus of the
undetermined –
the indeterminable –
outside a half-crazed
soothsayer or palm
reader bent over
piles of cracked stones
and pretending to
have a clue as to
your nebulous future.
Life is in a transition period
generated by your own
actions but no less
daunting as you’re peeled
from the support beams
of the dock and shipped
out to sea like
unlucky lichen.
We are comfortable when
sedentary yet only find
ourselves through forays
beyond the veil of monotony
and into the murkiness
of the unknown.
Waiting at that cliff’s edge
we are at once exhilarated
by what could be and
terrified by the very same
notion of possibility.
By choosing to remain
we are safe –
but gain nothing.
All chance of reward
lies beyond the jump.
