The next four weeks of poetry are not only connected by name (consider it a sort of word-association game) but link to the theme of the month. We’re almost done here, the holidays are coming, and there’s a kind of demob-happy vibe permeating everything. This is also the means by which yours truly gets to practice her stream of consciousness descriptive techniques on a wider stage. Let’s face facts, it is all largely pissing in the wind until someone else notices and gets something from the words.
I’m having a whale of a time. Does it show?
Done
We have arrived, on schedule, to
moment of almost perfection.
Safety belts, redundant restraints,
may safely be released. Relax.
Proceedings: fruitful, concluded
in most pleasant circumstances.
Comforting perspective, seated
grant next stage’s planning. Begin.
Placed for consideration, list
requirements, process imagined.
Without contention, debated
safe spaces then defined. Pleasure.
Comprehension: essence required
evolving past this present place.
Acceptance, redefinition
sans recrimination. Open.
Doors thrown wide, walk into sunlight
without fear. Transformation’s spark
undoes, decades limp restriction;
hostility, exhausted. Done.
The Internet of Words 