or needn’t poetry have a point?
we’re all just bumbling through
in these systems we’ve created
everything is made up
and maybe
that’s why i create
[because i’m not allowed to make whole new systems
so i make words fit my needs
rather than
the other way around]
[or something]
how do any of us ride out this life?
there’s so much we could do
so much we do
so much i’ve done
but i constantly feel like
i’ve missed the boat on
so many things
everything
i don’t know how to get everything out of life
that i want to get out of it
so i’m just kinda
enjoying the ride at this point
admitting this isn’t how i thought it would go
but my adventures have been so
adventurous
and i do
love that
[maybe that is how you live life]
it still makes me weepy
knowing
dogs
and how good they are
lion boy
little lion boy
come tell me your tale
and all your friends’ tails’ tales
translate
and translate your translator too
and talk to computers
and everything you
ever imagined possible
it’ll all work out in the end
[and who knew
chameleons could give predators
such a surprise and a
talking-to]
belly aches
and
too much fun
and
paying for it all the next day
i’m not getting out what i want to get out
this morning
[but the problem with having
a writing practice
of trying to get things out
in the morning
is that sometimes
you’re only half awake
and half aware
of the things that actually need to be stated/written/gotten
out
so sometimes you just have to write
about the fact that the writing
just isn’t doing it this morning
and hope that makes something come out]
there is a blue lagoon offset from the sea
that calls to me
that calls to my ancestry
but we gave up fins and tails
and gills and frills
long ago
so very long ago
so i dip my two separate legs inside
and lean my bony back beside
and look at the storm clouds racing
and i think about the oceans rising and rising
and whether i can take back a deal made centuries ago
was my great great great great great great great grandmother a fool
or did she know something then
i can’t possibly know
now
[just as now i am so highly aware
of things she’d never even dream of]
but all i can do
until i meet someone who
can exchange this blessing-turned-curse
is sit and lie and dip and swim and wish
beside this blue lagoon
separate but still somehow part of the ocean
[how can i bring myself back to that part of me
or will i always remain so
separately]
nothing is set in stone
so
might as well just go with the flow
maybe
change can be
good
maybe
change can be
hard
maybe
change can be
exactly what we needed
maybe
change is
happening
now
there is a super secret cinnabon
somewhere in penn station
and if you’ve only ever explored
moynihan
and the pathway between the subway lines
you’ll never ever ever guess
where it could be
[but if you’ve taken new jersey transit
i bet you’ve already been there
perhaps grabbed some cinnamon rolls to go
some time]
but it felt
oh so
super
secret
to me
kipventures 