The Piecemeal Man (abmann) wrote,
The Piecemeal Man

  • Mood:

Reconciling interaction.

It isn't a lack of things to say
words being like rain during a storm,
it is energy. My reserve, built
by Russian engineers to save against
a shortage, is full of fire
and no air. The charge of convictions,
powerful and energetic, need breathing

now and again

and this process is as obfuscated
as a life written in verse.
I could be and just be
with some form of humanity keeping
my functioning without seeing
the metaphysics, the transition
between body and mind. A silver cord
cut by offhanded remarks
and hours in front of an html machine

is only mended

with intention - the same intention
that paves the roads to hell.
I am no engineer of brick. Building structures
upon which people walk is too
lofty for me. I sew up cartesian glands
because that tie is more useful
than building bridges. That bridge
brings home pills of empty security.
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