MADE FOR YOU AND ME 1: hive Being (Stanzas 2016—part 46)
Let's workshop this stanza sequence about tundral boulders, public-hair loofahs, abandoned train cars, chic victimology, workaholics, altruism, grease spills, desert wells, preschool memories
haunting notes fingered from the rims of wine glasses wildflowers erupt in a graffiti of color against train cars abandoned to rust beneath the north-facing overhang of a boulder, glacial and too big to hug, a verdant oasis of moss respires the frigid ambience of tundral moisture sandbox sand sprinkling from their Velcro tangles, the sneakers of his college-bound son transport him back to preschool drop offs and fingerpaint pickups the bitter frankness of those speaking a language in which they lack the range to dance in diplomacy around the bush how to have a life, especially in hashtag college, if you don’t fall in any of the right, the trending, victim categories—now that is the question! afro bush for loofah lather those desperate for rest, but who cannot stop making work of free-time activities beer sucks through a straw the child-pleasure of being terrified a solitary well in the heart of the Sahara the creak of floorboards no matter how meager the step what matters a hearing from the world at large? self-imposed deadlines tick louder in the closed-eyed corners of “me-time” sizzling head of froth from orange juice sloshed rough in carton “Don’t make excuses, make results,” says the Double Diamond Ambot, the guitar opening on Joe Esposito’s “You’re the Best” wary about calling cops despite the sixth sense because TV shows always speak of waiting twenty-four hours before a missing-person report in our narrow age, what might come from bringing to bear mastery of one specialty on another? giving up in the presence of greats when you would have pushed on had you been isolated from them the old man gave people so much in hope to draw them in as a resource to ensure his future giving—altruism with an angle mobile-home church—for gospels, but not on the go the wood-panel veneer of 70s electronics, from amps to TVs to Ataris Indianapolis Ethiopian Clowns: Hank Aaron’s negro baseball team saying what you do not believe—what is downright ridiculous even—in fear of violating your racial allegiance only tightens the chains the laughably narrow view of nature had by those who think that insects live closer to nature than we do older now, silly putty no longer stands out in the supermarket aisle books on the shelf behind us in photos fixed despite our change reality has not become any more out of reach now that we say, even feel in our bones, that reality acts like a movie (rather than the other way around): our antennae, in fact, have been shaped by media to pick up new things in reality at least on some occasions stomping cum out in the carpet priorities reshuffled by the march of time linoleum still slippery after last week’s grease spill the organic of pre-human epochs was always algorithmic that day when he had to show that her life did not matter when at risk was his own hosts no longer holding back fierce quarrels, you are now here too long—or is it, at home? be not so certain of your take on jungle law: the gazelle jumped in the watery path of crocodiles so that even its foolish calf could live
This is a portion of an ongoing mosaic poem called Made for You and Me. This portion is from the first installment: hive Being (Stanzas 2016-2020). More specifically, it is from the 2016 portion of that five-part work.