periodically i find myself in clearance
wide and open, the bright, sunny ceiling
enormously happy and knowing me.
endless, strange organisms smile
and absorb my hopeful optimistic rage;
the foliage spills greenly and graciously.
life is synchronized in amusing chaos and
all according to the warm, porcelain plan...
a certain rhythm moves us roughly and
on top of it all, my teacup rattles and breaks.
[really, i am so, so sick and wounded by the real world.
i mislead myself into health, periodically.]
