Burry my head in my hands
What I’m trying to say is that when I hear this music,
I can only rock myself
go into my vibrating chest, simmer in
sun cast through flickering leaves,
a warm lace over people drinking
hot, strong, bitter coffee over laptops,
with faces close and mugs between them.
This is why I shut off/down/in
what should I can't go around
rocking and blinking and moaning
let the weird thing happen in my brain?
where all goes dark.
white? noise. black?
All goes out - of body.
The same glitch in my left hip and jaw
your yin side she says to
me on the treatment table/
Making obvious mistakes- disconnected
from my work.
Are my gums rotten?
How long have I been asleep? Who dressed me like this?
they say that’s practicing mindfulness
self awareness, or analysis, vomit maybe.
Fingers dance a resistance
beg me to stop this-
retreat again into haze but I am humbled
by the ballooning call
on my forehead
and the generosity
of conceding ownership
The ache through my sternum and ribs
curls around tendons in my tight tight tight
neck should wrong. Always arm twisting arm
big bruise for months, stop it, they said.
Stopped listening to music.
When I stopped writing.
Stopped having real speakers, good headphones
Stopped using my ears when I made a wish to clog out pain.
Unfolding at the taste of coffee
of girl I know you are satisfied
blues, house, Chicago, drinking, being fully
whole heartedly in love and
fully and whole heartedly broken
Sent off to Jesus camp
in the night
cold Wisconsin woods
in boozey resentment.
Hands shaking at the restaurant,
Ohio from Chicago for the summer,
green gras grey pavement,
old town houses
cabinets and cats.
handmade hand painted earnest
shitty gifts and date nights over
stupid food proudly presented
mrs officer in the loft
records in the apartment
leaving you for him but always her.