gettin’ gone gettin’ on…


getting the music right is no easy task.
when the time comes to conjure some
imaginary story weaving
lines out of a few reference points
when time stopped to recharge.

as angry skies opened,
rain fell off the clouds,
there was no choice but to fall;
pretending symbolic judgment
arrives on the back of rain clouds
doesn’t make it so. the rain
was warm.

left continually brushing wet black hair
out of my eyes, but there’s nothing
to see. everything important
has already happened.

the set up was ham-handed
savage and severe,
another case of sabotage disguised
as something else; catches your
eye out of concern, maybe
finding some broken figure to think
about while the rain hits my face.

ain’t nobody here; just me
measuring out a bit of faith,
playing on that there’s something here;
maybe there is,
maybe born with the new year
a few decades ago,
walking between the raindrops
(so he thinks)
still getting wet.

finding genius in inspiration
has always been the approved method;
from long before I washed ashore
to walk in the rain,
playing with sand between toes
forever trying to get a better grip.

storms die out in light and heat,
attractors that usually serve to bring out
a much more industrious sort of fellow.
a kid thinking about Peter Pan,
knowing deep down that tossing down
such killer questions always leads
to the same knife wounds.

now’s the calm after the rain,
clouds pushed off their perch to
some far away hovering incandescence.
some clean up, maybe a dirty-sky smile
or warmth in the cradle of mind;
something that says fealty,
even a symbolic gesture of romance.

movement already assured for the future,
swept back North towards a most
derisively named home. finding something in
the time spent on correspondence,
teasing out the possibility that when meeting
genius, I may have accidentally
blinked first.


Dedicated to the ones who still believe that fortune favors the brave. Someday…someday…


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