this is one of those mornings
brain alive, body a dead weight sack
i carry around
2:06 a.m
as if time adjusts the collective scramble
city asleep, scribe clicking at his obsessions
type it all out (why?)
because this nothing needs
a cathartic narrative
the fire will always burn
rusted out drum under shelter bridge
hide from the onrushing calm
stark white bleak of midday zoo
high noon is never as portrayed
in western movies the hero at odds length
in one final last-ditch effort
summons his gunhand with celerity
and aplomb from within

**”Below the thunders of the upper deep;
Far, far beneath in the abysmal sea.”

and the audience swoons with passion
naming (him) savior and wanderer
to be treasured with bard songs
of legendary esteem
this can not happen in a serious world
where men and women struggle
in business suits
employer, employee
secretary salesperson
office transcript hustle
envision that heroic monologue
for a moment
“i’ve had it with your autocratic asymmetry!”
there is no stand-off
just the chill rend of uniformed dismissal
then it’s time to go
all the way back down to working
small firm stenography, or
low rent kitchen slum wash bin
with a bruised ego mental challenge
to self:
“why did i bother to attempt to acquire
a human measure of equity?”
shut up, sit down
type, type, sell

**”And far away into the sickly light,
From many a wondrous grot and secret cell
Unnumbered and enormous polypi
Winnow with giant arms the slumbering green.
There hath he lain for ages and will lie.”

why do i write the fall of man
when i’ve never had to work like that
and all my heroes died in movies?
am i just another image junkie
hard-nosed snob too good to be left ignored
a stand alone
living out my self designed appellation
what madness is this really?

**”Battening upon huge sea-worms in his sleep,
Until the latter fire shall heat the deep.”

if i truly possess
(and i believe that i do)
the spit fire enmity for my aggressors
the right to have a voice, a standard
definition of dignity, then i too
must struggle at the whip
kick against the noose
if i must prove that i am alive
then i will fight if i must
to stand up for
what i believe to be in the good service
of my better health

**”Then once by man and angels to be seen,
In roaring he shall rise.”

to make no promises, save one
that i will never be a victim
to spare my self-assured creative energy
that i will speak up for myself
and never again let another
deal out my fair portion for me
to hold my love in my heart

**”and on the surface die.”

Author has chosen all above notations
with the ** asterisk from
“The Kraken”, by Lord Alfred Tennyson

it is now 3:06 a.m
and i forgot to put the coffee on

© Emerys Watchel, 2015 All rights reserved.


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