GLASS
Light filtered through stained glass cave dwellings, cool earth floor, among the red rocks and chips of light break through like points on a map when everything is warm and kind. The rock is smooth in my hand, now edges jagged are merged with palm, tendered with lotion and love from all around, and above, beyond, below, beneath, besides, concerning, down, during, except, for, from. The prepostion parade with clown horns and Shriners whizzing down the streets and squares of Savannah during the St. Patrick’s Parade; and your apartment window two floors above the porta potty while people pissed green; your stryrofoam head doll painted magical Mona and no idea of direction. There was only the wind and the dandylions catching, scattering, dispersing, dancing. Did we dance last night outside Nicotine, didgeridoo pulsing notes and I interrupted you to trace the painted footsteps, fucked up the numbers and turned towards you watching me learning. But the clouds pass casting shadows layered like stacks of napkins spread in a fan at the bar; swizzle sticks, a rotating fan. The film is rolling and nothing but everything I ever wanted stands in the way of here and now. Already the vine is curling tender shoots reaching up like pipe cleaners to twist and play with suck on like ponytail braids and twirl around in the dress like every damsel in distress. Good god. May there be light, may there be inner peace and spritual growth for every one of these fuckers like me and you and everybody playing it cool or emptying giblets from paper packages to put in soup to flavor the broth. I am down with mines and shoulds and sighs. I have enough belief in myself to let it ride ‘cause if the worst is down, that is what I am good at. Spring is here. Step outside.
