vehicle

This morning I groped the cantaloupe's at Randazzo's

and thus have been reassured that sex is still possible.

I've rationalized things long enough.

We've put the dog down and she went without as much as a

gentle, hurting paw below the mesh. Say your mother

was a person from Plath's "Colossus"

picking thru the Tethys of mythology like a crab picks thru wet sand/

would I want her for eternity? Or better asked,

would I want her un-seasons for the springs yet to come?

when the ice melts away from the gutters and leaves

fall and clog the downspouts, and the squirrels I did not

notice when the snow was heaviest

shoot around the yard looking for what plump pecan or

spotted pear the crazy person who lives in this house

might leave?

Winter kills every crazy, rotten notion just as it

sucks to  oblivion the gray over-painted steps. I've thought

about oblivion the last few days,

about heaven. Write about it. Pray to it. Met a woman

on the bus who swore it was a real place

where gold was everywhere

and paths and street signs were no longer needed.

No GPS. No fear of being car-jacked while sitting

at the intersection un-darking  the poor choices you've made;

nor the circles, nor the waves of Oceanus

nor the giant fish that raise their heads about the

blue water

to breath again.

Reviews

[Terpsichore]

It may splutter and cough and on occasion leave us stranded on what seems like an uphill road to nowhere, but whilst there's gas in the tank we've got to keep that motor running.

Very much enjoyed. T

[RomaJ]

Ah, I think it's human nature to rationalize things. Trying to make sense. What, with all the choices we face in life. All of which, can have a great impact; on not only ourselves, but those around us. Like a pebble, tossed into the lake of uncertainty. But after some time of careful reflection. Hopefully it was all for best. As they say, "If you can’t change it, accept it, move on"

This was a very captivating, and thought-provoking piece. Palpably resonant with me. I enjoyed reading this piece. I have to admit, I pondered it a bit. The visuals were striking from the beginning, and at the end reminded me to "breathe again" I loved this.

[h d e rushin]

thank you so much RomaJ..for those interesting remarks my friend..Happy Sunday...dana

[RomaJ]

haha you're welcome. It was fascinating to read. I wish I could write like that. Extraordinary. Happy Monday. It's Monday here:)

[Beccy]

As ever, you are fascinating to read; and here, I find the last three stanzas in particular to be both intriguing and (for me) the words that spoke most powerfully.

All though life we ponder, worry at and analyse the boots of every damned thing that happens along the way; searching ever searching for answers, for something better. Yet no matter how hard we strive, that 'better place ,' seems to remain tantalisingly out of reach; something that will only manifest itself when, (as we all hope to do,) we ascend to the next level. So foolish really, when that gold as WK so ably implies, it all around us and thus gives us no real reason to desire reconstruction, which is not the same as memory by a long chalk.

It's the not seeing the wood for the trees that is so often our downfall.

Amazing poem. Beccy.

[h d e rushin]

thank you Beccy for this insight my friend....dana

[W.k.kortas]

Woooooo, there is a whole bunch going on here. I think the wise erin-cliberto has picked up on something, the notion in Plath's work and life (and herein as well) that they gray of winter, the oblivion you mention, simply overwhelmed the possibility that there would be the opportunity for one last chance to breathe, one last chance for the gold to hold sway over the gray. And again, woooooo.

[h d e rushin]

Love you....in fact, I love you all. Caught the flu, half dead this morning as I read this....but good
words my friend...dana

[writing mojo]

after thoughts awakening from a deep sleep..winter feels like having your arm asleep during the middle of that movie adaption of the shining, ghost, cold halls and big headed twins in iced montage glances of going mad within the writing in bout longings for a distant light..excellent piece

[h d e rushin]

thank you dear brother for both your continued inspiration and support....dana

[jacob erin-cilberto]

i read the last line as "to breathe again"

this poem makes me wonder if Plath found heaven and if there was gold there for her---she talks about that gold filling in her Lady Lazarus...and she woke up every spring still feeling crazy and uncomfortable with herself...but then didn't survive that last winter in 1963---the snow was too heavy for her...life was too heavy...and those cantaloupes are so palpable.

[h d e rushin]

so true Jacob. Plath's heaven was not ever the readers. Yet she had arrived; had become the 'talk',
the new poetic voice. She could not have felt, going forward, that going forward was necessary
at all. Her heaven, as you have suggested, was just too heavy a place for gold..
Thank you my friend for your continued inspiration....dana