If
if I spend five minutes or more not thinking about war someone will always rewind my thoughts, and remind me, like, why don’t we meet on Saturday if there’s no war will you ever sleep placidly if there’s no war why don’t we fly to Rome if there’s no war and call any place our home if there’s no war if the day’s not rolled up like a scroll if this nightmare does not drill a hole in my heart, if you don’t forget who you are wishing for just one thing: to never feel the sting when everything ends, to never see through the ring or any magical lens may walls stay where they are may people stay where they are may all who they are stay where they are this wonderful day of Spring is saving me from the sting is saving me from the hum that is about to come this is my home by the way where I’m trying to stay joyful to meet a snail crawling in this wet soil i’m not gonna pull the thread to see what’s under the bed i want no forecasts to dread the day is gorgeous and pink at dawn—more than you think 7 am is its prime so now is not the time not the time not the time.
Fragment
when you say “fragment”, what do you picture? something tiny, piercing, dangerous, vexing, sometimes lethal or a fragment of a cup a bomb a fragment in a body impossible to operate on causing pain no, compatriots, this epoch is different a fragment now is the size of a boiler a dog a motorcycle or even larger it’s ok if it doesn’t fall in an open space on the grass in the garden if it strikes a car a garage an attic one can even rejoice but no one does
reading the feed
oh we’ve lost it oh you’ve never sought it oh we haven’t reached it oh the ginger one’s an idiot oh ours is an idiot oh everyone’s an idiot oh another time oh it’s all about money oh our soldiers oh this war oh the wrong shelters oh the wrong governments oh the wrong army oh the left are not right oh the right are wrong oh the settlers are fascists oh fascists kill oh you shouldn’t have finished oh you shouldn’t have started oh enough is enough oh the fault is theirs oh you are too new here oh you are brainwashed oh you’ve drained us oh we’ll drain you and this is spring. spring is this.
Anxiety in verbs
someone cares for your good someone—for their own good someone’s having lots of fun someone’s squinting at the sun someone’s crawling down the steps towards the basement (hope it helps) someone’s working by your side though they haven’t slept all night pain is soaking you in it came out from within it’s computed in advance not expected, though, for once ready steady shoots you right in the eye—how do you fight? can prepare— can’t avoid you aren’t trying you’re annoyed there’s no limit to this pain let’s hold on another day picking mercury by hand— bad idea, it’s leaking hard well now breathe the way you can it’s in every tiny can it’s in every tiny crack shining like unknown fuck well you know you’ll learn you’ll stay won’t be gone or led astray breathe it in—it feels like gum and this rain is burning, mom.
well
not these words are so painful to yell brewing in me and the air unfair left to freeze in the dream that can’t breathe in the silence that’s trembling in the country that’s rambling tête-à-tête with the world, each of those has its word, fair and rough— true but a bluff, there’s no war, but the war is enough.