It’s All Improv

The whole cosmos is a constant alteration of one being. ~ Diogenes (paraphrased.)

It is difficult to see

what I condone 

tacitly doing my laundry

in private, by chance hearing

my mother say, Mick Jagger

is so ugly — even now, 

she’s called a great

beauty.  Instantly I feel

the collar tighten a notch

in a flurry of beliefs

rising like a murder

of crows, black and noisy

above the roof

of my consciousness.  I’m critical

of her criticism, desperate

to belong with this long

and narrow face, an unattainable

ideal cutting off my

breath, dragging me into

subservience.  The fractals

of the tales of separation, cascading

down into a canyon.

Only one way out, and so you




yourself into the frigid water

just between the wicked

cliffs, beyond the jagged

stumps hidden 

in the roiling.

Sometimes I eat what I know

will cause me agony.

Sometimes I dream the keys

to all the secret passages.

Sometimes I wake just

in time

to shout yes and

to my no.

Inspired by: Collar, Plenty, Flurry, CondoneLaundry, and the dverse prompt Cascade (I’m late for dverse, but this video really inspired me.)