I am searching for my voice
Even as it escapes my throat like barbed wire
And dreams
I am interpreting the blueprint
Conceived in a child’s smile
My pantheon unfolding
The revolution rescheduled
I am not going to write another word about how I am broken
I am ignoring a desire to pen poor prose in place of truth
The ducks are fine (I’m not sure about the beavers)
Thanks for asking
The sun is rising earlier
I am sleeping less . . .
I am trying to discern the pattern inherent in the chaos
Like remembering the echo of a flicker on the screen
Repetition is the first step to defeating natural freedom
The next step is incandescence
Then oh how the dominoes flow
It requires your belief
You have to ignore the rhythms calling to you from inside
You have to wear shoes if you want to go outside
Do not step on the grass
I see the anarchy of the morning dew, daily
I spout subconscious talking points with equal regularity
No I did not see the Oscars
If the revolution was televised I missed it
I turned off the cable
I know how it all ends anyway
I am the worst dressed
I dropped the f-bomb
I’ve been sleeping on a single bed beneath a coughing child
I have been applauding the bravery of persisting through pain
I have been negotiating the peace accord of dinner time
2 more bites of chicken
2 more pieces of broccoli
Drink all of your juice
Then you can get down
Crying gets you nothing from me
Except for hugs and sympathy
The idea that I am settling is the thing I set on fire in protest
As it has always been, today is the best day of my life
I am a forgetful bastard
I know
I know
The dishes have become a sculpture
The dishes have become the mashed potato mountain from Close Encounters
They cannot be done
It means something now
They must be worshipped
They must be pondered
I sacrifice this inexpensive pizza to you dishes
I kneel to your girth
You are a wanton thing
You are a benevolent, forgiving god
The bourbon is placed in the middle of the kitchen
A welcome waypoint between the altar in the sink
And the unfolded monument that extends like a mountain range
Like a dragons back
Like a poor man’s pyramid
From the washer and dryer
Hail to you oh god of sleeplessness
Praise to you sweet lord of getting through
I have lost all patience
It is my song to you
I worship at the foot of the xbox
Inside I am a champion
I am a warrior
My sword is augmented with purity and experience
My halfback is unstoppable
He sits on my lap and says maybe we can find some treasure
Or kill some monsters or something
Maybe we can play the crashing game
Maybe
Maybe
He is reconnecting me
Even though his cold has ruined date night
Even though her cold has pushed us beyond arm’s length
We circle the wagons
We aid each other
And we become a heap of tissue, and blankies, and peace
All of my new dreams will be of other people’s happiness
Phase one of project blue beam
I will make a joyful noise
I will initiate the unconditional love protocol
I will project something worth believing
Let the dishes linger
Leave the clean clothes to wrinkle and pile
I have almost gleaned their meaning
I’ve been loving you so long
I will want to sleep tonight
It will be my intention
But you will sleep
And I will linger
In a quiet world
Interrupted by the echoes of you two
Coughing upstairs
I will love you best
In the darkness
With my pure hope
I will pray
That you persist
That you get better
That you don’t leave me alone
That you keep loving me
There are so many of these moments
That you will never know
Moments of gathering strength
Moments of tenuous joy
Moments of thankfulness and scars
Moments when I think I hear it
My voice scattered like stars and good intentions
I am searching for an unnamable feeling
I am trying to define a wordless something or other
I am seeking you oh god of guts
I am up
Too late
Again
Recounting my blessing
Pointing a finger at each subtle failure
Forming a mythology fraught with beauty and lies
Somewhere
Amongst the stream of possibilities
Is the perfect me . . .
I am beginning to think
This struggling soul
Is the best that I can be . . .
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