Postcard 209

 
My friend invited me to ego death
Invoking all the loss she'd known --
Lives accompanied past all boundary
She is trying to kill me bloodlessly.
Breath, let go. Breath, let go.

I am flying toward this death,
An arid high place I do not know.
The air compresses beneath this wing,
The naked thrill of lift, aloft and powerless.
Breath, let go. Breath, let go.

I notice first clouds resplendent commonplace,
And all the weightless layers fall away. Mud
Comes down for brick. Light for flick of leaves. Eyes
For blinking desperately. Self for want for need for
Breath, let go. Breath, let go.

Terror of intention tight unwound
Stars burn and blaze to insects coppery,
Bird pickings, tides, weather, wars,
Terror. Then another terror. Then
Breath, let go. Breath, let go.

I am sitting on an earthen porch,
Rocking through my fear. Chirps
of host of bugs, Rejoices of birds. Creaks
of sun-shrunk veins in old wood chair. We
Are riding rhythms each our own to be
Released. Let go Let go

Post 208

 

 

 LAUNDRY DAY

Its hard to get the laundry done.
Daunted by the piles of clothes,
Cascades of baskets demanding fold,
What we complete is quick undone.
We cant seem to get this laundry done

 

We can’t get the laundry done.
We’re low on gumption, low on hope.
We’re out of bleach; we’re out of soap.
Must kick the machine to make it run.
You see the issue with getting all the laundry done

Its hard to get this laundry done
The water bill’s months overdue
The whites are pink, the blacks are blue.
The load won’t drain. It sits unspun.
And so we cannot get the laundry done.

 

Still, we try to get the laundry done.
It takes heat to get the grass and mud out,
It takes cold to get the blood out.
But the tap won't give us either one.
We have yet to get the laundry done.

 

Its so hard to get the laundry done.
I start to hate the thought of clothes,
And fashions primp and fashions pose.
Going nude would be more fun.
Then there'd be no laundry to get done.

Yet, I must find a time to get the laundry done.
I’m beset with appetite, desire and urge,
Where all fine points of want converge.
Weaknesses I try to shun
Just keep on interfering with getting any laundry done.

 

 

And I hardly want to get the laundry done
The loads too heavy we’re born with,
And we are too delicate for all this filth.
Holes wear in places I just cant mention. 

Seems this laundry can’t get done.

 

Its damned hard to get this laundry done.
The basement’s really gone to smell.
The neighbors say we’re going to hell,
Or jail. Oh well, the smell of mildew’d bother anyone.
I suppose its time to get this laundry done.

Anyhow, I must get the laundry done.
The children can't go to school undressed.
We can't host guests with all this mess.
My partner would have packed her bags and gone,
Except her laundry’s not been done.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Seems impossible to get the laundry done.
The fabric of society’s begun to tear.
Ma says don’t die in dirty underwear.
We need bug-out bags for everyone.
Its finally time to get that laundry done.

We just cannot get that laundry done.
With acid sky and sun-bleached bones,
Fire and water lapping at our homes,
The very fiber of the world’s unspun.
How important is it, really, to that laundry done?

 

Its so hard, we’ve left the laundry all undone.
Ive got my fill of trials and plenty tribulation
They’re sayin' Armageddon has begun
The trumpet’s bleat, the sinner’s wail
Fire and brimstone, sturm and drang
They say you can only rapture if you’re clean
(But the sayers are all filthy corrupt and mean)

This is end of Anthropocene
Is it the 6th or 7th Great Extinction?
Mankind's makin its own end
Its end of times: the warming earth,
 the acid seas, the cooling sun

The Aquarian age, I’ve heard, is comin’ on
We’ll soon see what dreams may come
The clang of gates, the klaxons blast
The collapse of future into past
Its chaos as things come to pass

Cacophony and pandemonium
May finally get this laundry done