Random Dart


Beyond anything we can conceive
A dart from the crowd
Winging its way
Toward the eye of the beholder

Outside a dog is barking
I listen to the traffic
And the downstairs neighbours
Cooking and fighting

Energy seeps
Body weak
Spirit numb
Mind turbid

I wish I could tell you
The forecast was for gentle weather
A little time to acclimate
But the forecast’s for pain
So stomp and soar, kid
Go jazz around in the rain
While the daily chaos
Vanishes into the great Nothing
Carry the memories carefully
To sustain you through
The approaching storm

Caught in the midst
Of a deep, incomplete breath
Perplexing aroma of frankincense
Or is it a rock rose
Somewhere downwind?

I call the internal roll
Muster the troops
The archeologist and shrink
Aromatherapist and masseuse
And forty thousand bearers and porters
Ready to make our next assault
And comprehensive dig
In the basement of the citadel
Buried in what I fondly call
My mind
Cataloguing each dank discovery
Each gem sifted from the fibrous detritus
But whatever remains we find
What golden thoughts capture
For your consideration and amusement
Rest assured –
I shall remain
As ever,
And erotically
As consistently erratic
As I was yesterday

July 2008


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