Out of mind,
his father boarded his boat,
“The Midnight”,
and rode out on the ocean to drown in the darkness. (Drowned)
His mother stood on the rubble of the Twin Towers,
as a hundred different people turning inside her (MPS)
melted together
This is awesome.
Empowering.
Still I have the feeling of being without (dimension).
Without a friend.
Without a flock.
Without a mind.
Without migration.
This is how a planet must feel
before it is found in the folds
of blanketed space.
We lead ourselves astray so easily
(I am the donkey and the carrot dangling)
into a world full of vampires
and party girls
and bull elk alone in the rainforest.
Dad’s Midnight boat and Howe’s, through Perloff, are soon to meet.
Is synchronicity ever just synchronicity, or can everything be a strange attractor?
I like how mind is located between migration and flock.
And, how this planet, in and through your language, is enfolded.
This is so beautiful, I think that you have this INCREDIBLE opportunity to really look at “what nature must be like” on this journey. Maybe exploring your primal senses in relation to “winging it”… what do you smell, see, touch, feel, think…. KEEP WRITING POETRY I want to hear more. Also, maybe my quilting project will make you feel comfortable and connected?
GOOD LUCK BROTHER!