Offended by lies,

I plucked all mine out

–as many as I could remember, anyway–

Swirl-swiffing webs that deceived, and

Chucking phony filters, and

Squaring all pyramids,

I shoe-blacked bits of white.
 
 
Going global, then, I pulled out rug, and

overpowered by the itch to truly feel the land beneath my piggies,

I crowbarred flooring, too,

stripping bed I’d made there, next

(as it no longer served)

but leaving dog slumbering at its foot well enough alone, since

my Pinocchio proboscis was hardly his fault, and

his bark was just so tiresome, and

when only the prerequisite pillow, and

sleeping mutt remained,

I pulled every last tooth I had

(disabling veneers)

to place these extractions under cushion at bed’s head

–whereon I now also lay–

whispering to the

down

all that was up,

I drifted in

&

bled out,

dreaming of

a Truth Fairy

and whether

she exists.

Thor has his hammer

Poseidon his trident

Eros his arrows

­–we need a God with a broom.

A really, really big broom.

Big enough to swipe away

the web spun round our world

–a mesh that traps

light and gravity, both.

Saber tooth

worries stalk me

circling my perimeter day after day

–kept at busy’s bay–

they attack from tusk to dawn

chewing up my insides,

and scoring through my outsides,

and second-guessing decides,

they pack with wild bore’s

–the kill of which

often renders them one and the same–

all the while

caveman cackling

maniacally from a distance

–disturbing chorus pitched particular to my frequency–

and though I gird myself

and guard myself,

and run myself

and from myself,

–all quest for safe haven

returns

–on silent pause–

to me.

don’t meet your heroes,

if heroes are ghosts,

you’ll find they are shy

of the traits you like most,

to start with

the charl’tans

don’t even have hosts–

no heart,

and

no parts,

and

no spark

to their glow…

No shadowed reflection,

No pose for the lens,

No dewy complexion,

No, ghosts aren’t good friends

–just shades

that can blind you,

remind you the end

of time

on this side

of daisy and stem

Besides which

they’ll vex you,

and hex you,

–their game

to annex

your soul,

since ghosts need a frame

a post in this world

–and the next–

is their aim,

a dummy

for mummy

on this astral plane

so next time

a mem’ry

makes your eyes

~glisten~

be on alert &

make your ears

> listen <

for demonic tones

dogging the

~frisson~

that’s tingling your bones

practice resistance

Since heroes

ephemeral

aren’t heroes in pall

&

ghosts are for busting,

–not trusting–

at all.

mirrors crest & crash–

reflect splintered water

(that)

conceals Jaws

(that)

breaks eyelids

(that)
 
face-plants grit.

Palms grip

beach towel

/sand

/seaweed

clinging to an earth

(that)

spins too fast

(that)

portends deepest cold.

Beyond briny absolutions,

Fear

colors

(that fly)

starts

(that don’t)

and off

Cape

(altogether)

unable to leap

skyscrapers,

(after all)

 and

slower than

sniper shot

(that)

kills the bird

–there

up in the sky

–there

Look.

I have this vague

crystal-clear when I sleep

image
 

of the Big Picture, and it’s so very

focused,

inhale

so 3D doable,

exhale

so decoupage cut & dried on nightstand note paper

inhale

you’d think it was red-carpet ready!

exhale

In the REM state, anyway, but no stacked calendar–

inhale

this paper pattern fails to reflect

exhale

the soul-dredging seconds,

inhale

the white-knuckled minutes,

exhale

the heart-skipping hours,

inhale

this Bigger Picture entails

hold it.

in mosaic of moments,

& sweat shop measure,

hold it!

in photo-free transfer,

& patchwork of time fabric,

hold it!

in thin-skin sensitivities,

& acquired constitution,

Hold It!

without which

building blocks

turn blue

and remnants

pass out

of the Bigger Picture

remain

pinch me

wide awake fuzzy.

fate has its

~factors~

its features of fortune,

its deeds

that are destined

–dumb luck

or coercion…

there’s causes

> for crises <

in karmic

occasions,

and kismet

is questing

in quantum

≠ equation =

there’s choices

and channels

for changing

the

? chances ¿

there’s dips

and design

there’s dangerous

dances…

but breaks

are a boon!

and blessings

can broker–

the places

and phases,

and payoff

to

♥ poker ♠

yes, cards

that are dealt

are all well and good,

but bluff

if you can

when you think

you should.