Gentle ambition
lives among the fears
of wasted breath.
No sooner had I clung to
this revelation
than the cliff stopped
abruptly at the entrance
of my fall.
Honestly, rude.
Now and then?
More like:
all the time,
everywhere,
all at once.
That sounds like
the most British thing
I've heard.
The only thing,
honest,
and you should be
honest.
Tell me how to get
there
and I swear to you,
by sould,
by blood,
by iron,
we leave.
Well, did you find
a bowl or not?
Have you lost your mind?
Your head sloshes
full of soup.
Consider that,
your eye
half eaten by the falcon,
Horus.
Maggots wriggling about
the lens -
have you no shame?
Nothing to see here,
not since I lost my eye,
after all.
I would have rather walked. Despite the early spring chill, I longed for a refreshing hike.
I parked, feeling the tires’ dread an inch from a small grit burn. They needn’t have gone through this existential horror except that I had so many quarters to rid myself of.
Standing at the roadside, the long–necked animal swallowed my change. It ate eagerly, one by one, and in turn showed all that I was an honest person with no proclivity for petty crime.
I waited for the meter to down the last coin with a metallic gulp. After it squawked happily, I climbed back behind the wheel and drove home so I could take the walk I desired instead.
The bench spoke to me.
I waited so long:
the daily walks,
the nervous glances,
- hoping.
I made excuses,
now thinking about it,
to walk by.
Deluding myself to believe.
No,
I do like walking.I do like that bench.Around and around
that gnarly,
blood-footed path.
And then
sat,
“please leave“ it requested.
An underwhelming introduction,
but
chills and flutters
still.
I walk on.
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