Storm's a Comin

Storm's a Comin

Saturday, January 1, 2011

Screech Owl Alarm

Childhood slinks into nightmares,

ill remembrance of hero turned villain,

symbolic strength and beauty into hostile predator

and I burrow under water for shelter.

Fire's breath adds to the elemental.

We're getting back to primorder here,

fertile compost for subconscious.


Arousal awakens, stiff and pulsing

for reasons unexplained. Not even in

tangential theory this time (a new consciousness?

No. Resolution in tact.). A hasty retreat

from the confusion, a bid back to distractions

of waking life.


What is the thought in these terms, these

structures? Late night black white memories

of Channel 9, cherished Christmas toys, national

insecurity, liquid diversions. Forecast of doom clouds

overhead. Fair to partly cloudy.

1/18

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