A nothing from nowhere cast his words to a world wide wind, hindered by periphery. |
There are times, I sit here with my brain in my lap and ask, 'what am I going to do with you?' Too big for a pet, too small as a child, we could sit here all the while and mark the hours together in brilliant wonder and ignorance. Dishes in the sink, laundry long past remarking 'turn me over' as I bounce you on my knee, and you say, 'whee!' The sun has long since inspected the goings on inside this room, month of June, when the grass could be fed, trimmed an inch or two. Autos outside this glass decelerate and accelerate the corner, mock with their egress. I'm still not dressed, urgent clocks scream, warning noon -- daylight draining beyond the roof to the pines, sundials in late afternoon with you staring with me at this screen, as if we create destiny with empty balloons inflated on hyperbole, for an invisible lap animal and it's master, who actualizes in the hour before her machine winds home, around the corner into a cool garage, not open since dawn, when I first yawned. 6.16.21 free associate free verse with my lap monkey |