Sure, there's some poetry

5/4/2023

They flew along as a companion — I was told if I had joined a Norse House my diety would have been Odin

Maybe a project called: LETTERS TO MY HIGHER SELF (even manifesting as a groundhog)

We get it wrong
Con/Jur/d, 5/4/2023

“We say the Sun rises on us
really it rises in us” we said
“and of all the ephemera I’ve
published, written, and dropped
like rain

On a still Spring morning
the garbage trucks howling
their metal shrieks, the papers
meant for recycling, pulped
by the fine drizzle and the avian
courtship chorus temporarily
abated, you happened to absorb
this one, one whose countenance
whose rise and fall, whose gravitational
ellipticals, whose spiral dynamics
you understand in your head
but you have problems

Feeling the solar winds
in your lungs, the 100,000-kilometer
plasma flares in your heart, the billions
upon billions, corkscrewing gravity waves
in your gut 

You know it is true

But

Due to the peculiar logic of embodiment
you think it doesn’t matter”

You’d think if it’s a compulsion — we’d be better at it

I haven’t been doing enough of this

BA DA DA DA

Much love,

Con/Jur/d, 5/4/2023