Fatigued

We ran out of gas

Me and I

A sputtering surprise

Coming to a fuming end?

Not yet done, but stalled

Stabled – don’t old stallions need more rest?

I dreamt of a butterfly with a torn wing

A tiny slice that made it impossible for it to fly

It crawled on the grass, seeking ever higher blades

Unable to ascend on the wings of wonder

There’s an old dog under my porch

Hiding from the sun, panting dust

It is an unquenchable thirst

When we lose hydration

For fluid living

Stalled, a forced respite

A time of dis-membered re-membering

There once was a man from

Somewhere

Things are a bit blurry today

Was that yesterday or is this a dream

Yes, a

Respite

For settling

Memories and dreams

And scores

Exurbia

Exurbia*

To walk about, head proud

Proclaiming our correctness or preferred brand of mis-fit-ness
The minority of our making, our place
Our belonging, our homogeneous, deserved, radical identity
The unique flavor of our claimed exurbia

While in the city, the alleys of me
Lies

Less than the echoes of truth but more than falsities
The scurry, hiding like rats from barking terriers
Mange chased mutts, cowering from chastising
Owners swinging broken leashes

Another me, The Fisher King thee
Nouwen’s healer takes walk-about privilege
 
Between here and there, played to jaded, directing
Succulent sewers flowing with purity and possibility to mend

Us to a transparent and intertwined majority
Of one

________________________

*Exurb - a small, usually prosperous, community situated beyond the suburbs of a city.