MADE FOR YOU AND ME 2: hive Being (Stanzas 2017—part 14)
Let's workshop this stanza sequence about chickadees, charlatan paranormalists, prostitutes, Aristotle, the temptations of victimology, Heraclitean wisdom, painting temporal passage in a portrait
huddled whores shivering as they ravage cigarettes convenient for the paranormalist, the ghost shattered merely a ghost of a tumbler waiting for the course of the conversation to clarify the conversation realizing you are just a charity case, not a friend the anthropologist planted some quite-literal seeds in the cut-off tribe trans females undoing decades of feminist progress away from female stereotypes daytime gutter vomit scared to change your way from one that has been making you money color-segregated schools for the blind so much of the tried-and-true wisdom the old have to offer the young would be unwise for the young to embody while still young the increasing pressure to pass— indeed, to identify—as one of the popular disadvantaged races, genders, and so on to paint time even through a posed human results in a figure more or less blurred depending on how spastic, how timorous chickadees waiting to scoop up for their nests the outdoor grooming remains of collie fur snagged in tall grass and fencing by the breeze when the horror one feels in life is one’s very comfort in life all—all—new people in merely one hundred years everything, but the soap itself, a bursting bubble imagine someone building their identity around an inanimate object, one not even a tool to channel their artistic expression the more unusual your life, the more people will struggle to relate to you—a problem especially in a land of hook-em-early sales hostility toward you because your excellence— indeed, even merely your alternative lifestyle— makes them feel bad about remaining on the pasture if there is any sense of success in life beyond simply local and conditional success (as in, say, winning the spelling bee), what better answer is there to the question “He who does the most what succeeds?” than Aristotle’s “Activity born from virtue”? the guilty look of one working a job not right for him around the people who know it is not right for him love song to an ex partner, not of romantic love but of familial devotion: ain't no mountain high enough in preaching that we need to be here now, could it be said we are self hating, being as we are precisely the creature who lives in that meta space of knowing that we know?
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 2017 portion of that five-part work.
