Sexistential Dilemma

Hi there.

Today I’m sharing a poem about who-knows-quite-what. I could tell you the day’s images and occurrences that coalesced into this collection of words, but it wouldn’t really help you understand the synthesis that went into this or enhance your enjoyment of the word salad I’m about to serve you. Suffice to say, it concerns the intense concentration of thought and sensation and recontextualization of the past (i.e. seeing your history through new perspectives) that can accompany times of conscious growth.

Enjoy.

When history crashes into this moment,
The impact fragments all romances into fractals
Between self & others, us & them, star & space,
And sends minds hurtling a lightyear a millisecond
Through hearts of glass across the galaxy,
Only to come home
With a sexistentially transmitted infection.

The howl of the river spirals upspine,
Parting sored lips,
Tossing open the decrepit attic window,
And breaking through the gray matter ceiling
By the pull of an unattestable green thread
All along laced through the scattered shatters
That ascends to a pained crystal chandelier
Revolving above the uprooted ballroom plains.

It could all just be your imagination,
Or your imagination could be it all.
On the other side of the big bangs,
The universe you were will grow leaves
And caress your waiste.