adherent sensorialists…

adherent sensorialists

cigarette smoke with my
benzinated morning coffee over
linoleum lined floors good for
pacing feet. deep thought in
the kitchen while around me only
asinine reality; isaak’s balloons
carried on the wind across the
window over the parking lot
while barking dogs sing the
breeze to sleep.

i’ve got it on the good authority
of a fanciful ground based sky-pilot
there’s a reason for everything
but my faith wanes. an apolitical
sensorialist leads morning congre-
gents in something resembling
prayer without any appeal to
divinity. they’re all dancing similar
steps, echoing the sensorialist
pleading for help from anyone that
might be listening to the gathered

nothing happens. always maybe
later but my faith wanes. after
my cigarette is crushed into the
ashtray & the last dregs of coffee
mix with in an acidified stomach,
skunk plant imprints impose their
own additional demands. thought
drifts from familiar sensorialist
congregations to the sensorialist
himself & the magic he weaves.

7 Responses to “adherent sensorialists…”

  1. I love the last line. A well written, fascinating piece. 🙂

    Here is mine this week-

  2. “nothing happens” … and yet in the still morning and your words there is so much one can gather from. I hope the day after that was full of events! Stay safe!

  3. This is delicious– brainy, witty– many of us know that ennui. xj

  4. Sensorialist…very nice. Sensory would be a most appropriate term for the piece, and thoughtful – it reads like a person’s thoughts, certainly, uncertain, slightly scattered, yet all dwelling upon the point. And faith? That is always the issue, isn’t it? Later, later, later, that is always the line…and patience, it dwindles in the face of it, and solace in the now is thought, though the prayers go on and the people dance…

    Favorite lines:
    “an apolitical
    sensorialist leads morning congre-
    gents in something resembling
    prayer without any appeal to


  5. nice…love the first line of the second stanza…though i belive nothing is random, you know…and even in lack of faith i like the nod at the end…

  6. Absolutely adored this because of the multi layered texture and meaning to the poem itself. Faith waines after having a smoke, ah, but in those reflective moments, you get some clarity my friend. Great write CRB

  7. ha! ego tripping poetry with a modicum of restraint of course…!!! ha ha ha ha ha ha I need to get on that pipe ha ha ha ha ha

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