Jumpadayhay

A tumescent circle of day breaking through voluptuous clouds, releasing the inconspicuous energy of the soul. Despite the glaring light, everything is so-so. Tea spoons measured unerringly, the clock hands intoxicating slowly. Tick-tock, tick-tock.

Grain mixed vigorously in the mill. A starving underbelly filled with trash. Crashed. Undermined. Ground. Between a rock and a hard place. There are things that philosophers have never dreamed of, out of place.

One step right, one step left. Is there anyone else? On this path where nothing grows. Only rotten rinds litter the place. No rigid solutions. There is no panacea for a rancid olive grove. Holistic, is the most valuable approach.

They laugh and squawk. They hit the fence and the bullet lands in my yard, a crushing attack. Let their eyes burn with envy. Their voices are loud. Way off track lie only traces of mud while someone else marching to a different drummer.

Staring eyes and ears. It’s not easy to fit in. Still looking for the oldest paths. Those drawn in black marker, unsmeared, indelible remarks from the heydays.

Unwelcomed mood dropped back to the drawing board. Suddenly, slowly preparing for new calls. This time, the audience will slowly chew on each word. No pouting or showing impatience. All done without negligence. Old wounds locked and prepared for the next day. To go hand in hand with fate slipping out of hands.

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