didn't know we had started
10/24/2024 hyberobjects
and, silently say Con/Jur/d, 10/24/2024 Among the grey haired ‘miracle to be still here’ set, our strings of time have become bunched folded creating a shorter distance between entrance exit -- we seem to be, often friendlier, maybe remembering how (when we first came into this) still growing into skins, not knowing the race had started how quickly it would end we knew how to make new kids, welcome now that the derma has been worn, thoroughly and begun to show wear and tear it seems in a nod, in a shrug the way we walk, the way we bend WE RECOGNIZE we know the stoicism, optimism, you kept from the crib how you wailed wailed and wailed, or kept silence, don’t worry the younger ones don’t notice: you hide it well behind a cup of coffee at 7 PM with Cherry pie too late for the middle-aged patrons, who are still figuring out their bodies, and still cling to the superstition they will avoid The Hooded Egress, despite increasingly frequent calls for mourning and grieving practice Our eyes meet while looking at the taxidermied loon above the gas fireplace among the dusty, authentic beer steins, complete with lids this place big enough to call, a city in these mountains rivers, lakes beneath an orange hue, and, silently say “Still here, huh?”
Much love,
Con/Jur/d, 10/24/2024
Still here, still. Holding it to for a while longer.