i never thought i’d be able to see
[or smell]
fires burning hundreds of miles away
but here we are, in the haze and 90+ degrees outside
and the air that smells like melting plastic
it’s unhealthy for sensitive groups
i’d say it’s unhealthy for all of us
humans and animals and ocean and planet
and i’d love to have a summer that feels like the beginning of the world
rather than the end of it.
the creativity is bubbling up
boiling and broiling
until a mess ends up over the sides of the pot
roiling down the sides
and onto the stove itself
and the question is:
was the creative endeavor one that would
put the flame that ignited the creative spark
out
or
is it one that is incendiary and will
continue to burn
until it consumes
the whole house?
deciding
deciding
deciding between
connection and
mental health and
why is it that there’s no
solid line between the two
and they’re interspersed
with fascism in this land
and those who want to fight
also have to use the damn
master’s tools
as it stands
why can’t we
just burn it all
down
and start with something new built on
compassion?
wounds
from circus
are worse than bruises
because they are usually burns
and they continue to make me squirm
in showers to clean them
and days afterwards
if they need band-aids
and then, finally, when they’ve stopped looking like
peeled flesh
and grossness,
and the healing process has set well in
the itch
is all-consuming
and unimaginably annoying
and because i usually never get them this bad
i can forget this stage
but right now
this healing thing on my ankle
is all my conscious can think about
and how much i want to scratch my whole skin off
but then the process would just start
all over again…
