Depression can grip
out of the Wednesday abyss
The stale toast lead
paint spread of wanting to go nowhere but inward
To lie flat eyes
into a pixel pane forest
Taste the absence
like marmalade
Recognizing today
yoga will not cut the fog
The coagulating air
has stiffened and the spoken word group in the bar
The jostling of
libido and intellectualization of heart meat
Would drain the last
bit of juice in the battery
Ironic introverted
energy of alone feels like the charger
The push pin marker
of a travel log mapped across the globe
Wanting to go
nowhere the compass demagnetized into a question of why
What is the point of
seeing another city, the markets to get eaten by
Lost in the
translation of how being around more is crushing
How to achieve
equilibrium in together and alone
The grand inquisitor
clumping malaise draught to the gullet
The lower back pain
from the car accident with the insurance company
That won’t return
phone calls
To the replacement
vehicle that is failing to achieve the advertised miles per gallon
To the dealership
that says our tests show the machinery is fine
There is nothing we
can do
Typing out block
letters and re-reading past years documenting a heart
Where it was to
reach out to a human be referred to as disgusting or nothing
To acknowledge
beyond what is blatantly condemnable in an ocean of baring being
Wanting to discuss
how love works, the cosmic magic of opening
In those parcels of
the universe that seemed stuffed with that this is what it is all about
The particles that
swarm into the depression and swallow the malignancy with cushion hope
Settling the depression
as a temporary inconvenience of perception, which while not destroyed
Is inoperable for
the duration of this belief
That there are
exchanges a being can participate where the skin comes off, bodies cease to be
bodies
But conduits and the
space between the quarks and atomic stars mingles into consciously
understanding
Presence and how the
fears and loves and hopes and depressions of this organic illusion of linear
Are in reality a
constancy using time as a platform to reveal itself in waves
Waves that engulf us
in this reformatting of what happiness is, joy or delight
Or the quiet
victories clamored in the audacity to be seen
To be seen gruesome
and awesome and for a common divinity imperfect perpetually
Attempting tangency
with ego-less-ness
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