Day 26

[dr_con]

just this
Con/Jur/d, 4/26/2021

Why didn’t you tell me? 
Did you even know? Don’t let it be
said, I didn’t pass it on, even if you
don’t believe me, and why 

could, would, should 

you?

Certainly, batteries lose their charge
and at key moments, like when I was
wearing headphones, listening to
an unfamiliar DJ, who’s got me

wiggling, wagging, hopping

around the house, between
loads of laundry, monitoring
an experimental ragu whose
umami I’m trying to get to 11
without tasting, and a feeling
that I need to write,

commit, craft, confabulate

a poem to stave off mortality,
dancing in my chair, repeating, 
the “This is it” mantra, and
seeing clearly, as a friend 
brought up only a single

sunset, sunrise, solar-noon

eternal-return promises this 
will happen,

again, again, again 

a  glorious annoyance,
impeded in capturing this

hand-waving, hip-arcing, foot-moving

dance in words 
by lightning captured,
failing, as if Prometheus’s
liver had never really been
removed by a rapturous raptor,
who couldn’t believe their luck,
demigod sweetbreads, toxin-free, 
a cycle of 

cantankerous craving, ecstatic satisfaction, pained satiation, 

finally, relaxation, repeats

over, over, over

and since,
despite what we’ve been told,
the gods never punished us,

sure, sure, sure

they

cajoled, challenged, called

us, to recognize what this
long-now is, 

just this, just this, just this.

[Tinker]

Haha, I can just picture this, a kind of awkward lanky cavorting in silence to music only you can hear. This made me smile.  

~~Judi