Blocks and barricades convene in the center of our outlines. It is, as if, nature is screaming at us. “Adapt or Die,” and while many listen for the follow up to such advice, others react instinctively in the moment. There is no guaranteed outcome; yet, there is always an outcome nonetheless.
Tag Archives: short poem
An artist belies dreams. He hunts for texture and for the illusory case of the perfect seam. He dreams in measurements yet awakens to the dull-drab shades he always opts for. Rows and rows of Corn Dollies sit in need of tune-ups. Some missing heads, others limbs, while others, never do receive a name at all.
Man leads wisdom about by its hogtied verisimilitude. Brigands meander about adjacent stars. Destiny is often confused with the random functioning of a mismanaged wherewithal. Shape is easily upended by the dampening of one’s own box spring. One must ponder greatly when a circumstance of such carelessness is overtly available for examination. The proof becomes tainted by the thoroughness of an investigator who awakens solely for the thrill of the impossible puzzle. Such an adversary is worthy of a true opponent, one disguised in the wares of a master tradesman, intent to keep his cache veiled and unacknowledged.