Monday, December 5, 2016

buying it.

i have found myself in the future not so distant
that it cannot be spotted in the night sky; not so distant
that the contrast of change is distinct. i'm not making faces at it, nor am i calling it a shit.

i'm in a crunched up car and it's raining. of course it's raining. my cell phone is dead.
the pressure of the atmosphere
is crushing the ground, the traffic, the people. we wonder what this is about as though it's phenomenal
so it won't turn into anything more.

we don't want to leave the houses let alone ourselves. we don't want to address it.
i'm making sense of things, examining my teeth
as i pluck them out
with the wonder one might imagine they would, when they're truly
making sense of things, as i finally am, in
finding myself
before losing myself, and grieving- making sense of things this way

before moving on
to somehow else.

getting the lights to turn on, as if with a mind control; immercing into this
before they go out.

this is when thinking cures my soul of itself.
it tells me to stay where i am for ten seconds, then to follow it

into the gingerbread house it half-runs toward the door of
like we're playing hide and seek.
when i follow it in, it jumps out from behind the furniture, exclaiming, "surprise!"

my first birthday party ever.

the walls are pink and soft. and the hearts- red, purple hearts
everywhere- bubbles floating coyly about. bubbles in which i recognize kindness as happily ever after.

there's a table which on top of are piled neatly wrapped presents, each
wrapped in ribbons and bows, accompanied by cards.
i look upward, smiling at god, who's smiling back. admiring

the ceiling, god, and life.
admired back.
the secrets of life i ache to know, to be with
like a popular kid, unveil themselves

at this moment, which weren't even the presents!

i am brought to the backyard by them, where i sit among
all my friends and family, who tell me
what it all means, and that meaning

does have its role in the universe.
it is safe to close my eyes, so i do so.

a blindfold is wrapped around my head. i am spun around a few times

and i walk back to the car i was crunched in again, entertaining myself

in the shift of weight i follow, exploring
the dormancy of faith

in which i find myself liberated
from pressure's oppression.