exodus

Mad Love, Nature Boy, Poem, poetry 1 Minute

birds march grandly

bright blue-breasted bird
with a laughable mohawk
jumps from branch to branch
to branch to branch to branch
to branch to branch to branch
to branch to branch.
stopityouidiotcantyouseewhatyouredoing!!
up the worn steps i go
as mechanically as the jumping bird.
i carry an outsized valise
that worsens the climb.
gears turn
a breeze dutifully blows
trees waver and rustle.
not fooling me!
Minutes are on the march,
a dusty endless column of the dispossessed,
they trudge along with their carpets and pans
one turns to me in passing
and says matter-of-factly
“your village is emptying
and there is naught to do.”

Published by jef

The blood thrumming around the still-point of this light headache can be traced back to the first rain. That is, our blood just sort of drifts, like smoke, through time; with stops in the Cambrian, the Renaissance and so on. It’s an impenetrable, infinitely-layered heap of unknowing. Okay? (sighs) Yeah The World (as it’s called) is a hopeless lucid dream, but not the kind where you can leap off a building, flap your arms and take joyous id-flight. It’s the kind where you show up for just long enough to see yourself in a mirror and Know that You are Here. That apparently necessary bit of business having been addressed, thermodynamics or some other such fancy idiot enters with a tea towel over its forearm, takes you politely by the gnarled elbow and ushers you back into the soil, where the mostly irritating Circle of Life awaits to make of you a tree, then a shoebox, then wet mush in a landfill again. Bring me my slippers! Oh…never mind. But I’m not here to philosophishizzle. We’re doomed animals at the momentary top of a food chain of no eternal consequence. It feels like. That’s not meant to be a downer. Bacharach sprang from the Ur-ooze, so that recommends the place. Let us celebrate our moment in the hum de dum dum de dum de de de dum dum.

Published

5 thoughts on “exodus”

    1. Matt, thx much. I’ll admit I sort of can’t abide just returning a comment to be polite, but I did revisit your strange and beautiful site to have a look and was struck, as I am every so often, at how odd and undefinable your vision is. What prompted you to start a blog? Your piece about the rainfall that ends with your eyes stinging…it’s utterly unique. Do you write professionally?

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply

      1. Jef, I write very unprofessionally. I’ve always enjoyed words and writing, and I started this blog as a commitment to actually do it, to explore some thoughts and ideas, and to see if I could develop some skill and practice and get better. I appreciate your comment very much, and am so glad you find this interesting – and odd and undefinable.

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