superstitious artifact,
suspect / evil / intent,
suspicious outcomes,
detonate! ,
how do i remove thy prescene,
from the home,
from the heart,
from the hearth
where residential existence resides.
i have tried most everywhere &
feel restless
about the cause;
long and far away are my memories of warmer times.
even without fire,
even betrayed by change,
let me feast on whatever platter
comes.
Its one of those quiet nights where the waitress tells you she has an ingrown toe nail and knocks on wood. "The night isnt too busy." Theres a guy named gary eating soup in a corner and ive seen him walking around the neighborhood. Its weird to me that im a dad. I have a nearby bar i like. Theres a regulars. Oh fuck they know my name. Its comforting. We battle over the jukebox. The floors are wood and the walls are stone. Theres pool tables. I feel somehow lost and embraced. Im in the middle of the best part of a daring adventure. A corner, some ale. The buzz of humans. Come on! Come on! The hustlers are playing pool tonight. I love small communities so much easier to wrap my head around the variables. I dont care about the wins or losses it all amounts to the same ledger but what about all the heart behind every choice. Gary slurps his soup and all is right with the world. It has to be enough to get me to bed finally when its all over.
---
*there's a place in my phone with a running commentary of all the food pickups and moments of existence my experience(s), before being thrown back in the fray.
---
i walk far
when little eyes
wont close.
