A Strange Kindness

I too often fail to think of my adversaries’ machinations.

In fact, I often fail to think of my adversaries at all.

Today, however, I am thinking of the way my adversaries work.

Those who are doing adversarial work and writing adversarial words are only doing what they should be doing.

Those who seek for help with their adversarial work are only doing what they should be doing. Those that offer to help exhibit a strange kindness.

Those who seek for help with their adversarial work are likely acting out of the belief that their work is something with true meaning.

My adversaries should read more about amor fati.

A Strange Kindness

Lawn Care (Revisited)

these days,
the space before
my front lawn
has proven
a constant stream
of activity.

more than ever
I have seen bald babies
and hand-holding couples
and masked joggers
and power walkers
and so many canines
with their well-trained humans.

today, though,
today will be different,
for I expect to see
the babies riot and
the couples count their blessings and
the joggers admit that they’re aliens and
and and the power walkers will circle the block
again and again, sweating and
yelling to the suburban skies,
“there is nothing to get upset about!
what are you so freaked out about?
this whole world is a goddamned hoax!”
because it is critical to understand
they have a valid and well-reasoned point of view.

today, oh, yes,
I will see
all the things
I’ve read about
in books and maga-
zines…right there
on the front lawn,
where the edges need trimmed,
and the weeds have staked a claim.

Lawn Care (Revisited)

Julianna Barwick

the vocals loop liked a well-knit stitch,
blanketing the flat field,
encountering no hinderances from trees
or towers
or tanks.

breathy, brisk wind wailing,
before fading into loose dust and sky,
dry, bright, and still noxious.

the land recalls when
the fruits self-actualized
on schedule, however untidy the season.

the earth cracks crooked smiles
as though struggling to say,

“the flowers were once quite beautiful here.”

Julianna Barwick

Misinformation and Biscuits

we were starving
for misinformation
and biscuits

while you were outside
lost amongst
the elderberries

we kept our minds open
for news we could use
to feed our biases

it was the strangest of times
apart and listening
to the experts

our ears were too full
when your burst through the door
with a handful of ripe fruit

we had to wrap our hands
tight around your throat
just to maintain focus

Misinformation and Biscuits

No Tangles. Guaranteed.

Mostly coiled like a morally-compromised copperhead who seems to be debating the instinct to strike, but more like a garden hose knotted just enough to reduce the pressure so that when something happens to it, the slightest of touches, the simplest of thoughts in the wrong direction even, the whole coiled mass comes alive in an explosion of cold water over everything and everything else.

“In this world, the most remarkable things are the little things, the heart in your chest, the books on your shelf,” my neighbors explain, “and when a neighbor doesn’t return a borrowed book, and you can’t buy a replacement, you may just have to buy another book instead. Maybe you’ll loan out that book out in the future, along with countless others, and you should hold out hope that you’ll get back some of them. But sometimes, with the precious things, just tucking them away in a freezer is enough to avoid loaning out things you someday want returned.”

I was able to stand the cold water for far longer than my neighbors, but I think most of my neighborhood has forgotten cold water exists at all.

No Tangles. Guaranteed.

Halfway through, or more, and looking backwards

In my favorite photos, you’re always smiling
and in the dreams I wake to remember,
you’re quick to hold my hand,
but then, somewhere in the liminal space,
I feel the pillow and you letting me go…

I never used to forget so many things.
Many numerous things.
So very many numerous things
     before I even realized
          what was being lost.

Intestinal things.
The only place
where I can think
about the things
is under warm water.

Celestial and eternal things.
umerous things.
s things.

Halfway through, or more, and looking backwards