FRAYED
OR HAVE YOU BEEN HOLDING THE END OF A
FRAYED ROPE FOR A THOUSAND YEARS
Some go to their neighbour seeking themselves
Others to lose themselves paraphrasing Nietzsche
muggy first autumn leaf on dying maple tree outside
yellow stucco townhouse how is gord downie? our nation
turns it’s lonely eyes to you usually come upon the final
leaf brisk november day then it’s gone small tree freezes
under canopy of 14 stars soon
stars! there are no stars anymore! old mother spits where
did you see them? where? clear city nights september to march
pleiades blinks overhead are you going to spend your time
pretending you are not dead? a voice in a dream said 40 winks
mid-poem i think epiphanic drool a dead giveaway
i have never sought to find myself in society nor lose myself there
Nietzscheans cannot slot me the truly godless gaze slack jawed at the
ones who say: man makes plans god laughs laugh back long+hearty
god’s wrath is just another name for anxiety frozen millennials
unplug tune in look up way up those aren’t stars
they’re flashlights
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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BfOdWSiyWoc
End Summer 2017
songanddancegirl 