Things Linger

The imprimatur and aura of how the grid acts
how the cells divide into fancies and facts
the delicate enforcement of interior suggestions
ply our prejudices and feed on protestations.

I left to partake in a mindful walk
with no time to think about passing time
a dead tree is part of a living forest
it gives itself unencumbered by intentions
in this canyon fly the reverberations
of how it was made before it was inhabited
the shape of each gulch and rivulet
mothering the making of all that live in it.

A hidden room with no windows remains
within the structural family of the house
its noises and its ghosts have free run
down to the front door and one step out
shaking assumptions all the way to the porch
in the back where servants used to smoke
and talk on breaks about the master’s sins
echoed in resonant beams and frayed wire.

One does not think with the dull kidneys
but the damage done to them early on
paints green and purple impulses and images
foreverafter formulated by busy brain
like that moment of being nearly fatally
hit by the train of realizing the ending
of one’s first love spent the fortune
built up in curious childhood.

The imprimatur and aura of how the grid acts
how the cells divide into fancies and facts
the delicate enforcement of interior suggestions
ply our prejudices and feed on protestations.

Advertisements

About mrsorenson

all over the place
This entry was posted in poem, poetry and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s