Year-End
Musings
To be a memorist is to ail. Lucky
are those who draw a blank. Faster
it seems to be moving, finer is the
phase. If it begins with a smackeroo,
it’s swell, if not you’ve another 364
days. When canorous tonalities mono-
polize: the thoroughfare is convivial.
It’s alimentative to be swaddled in
sanctified fare.
Key
Traumas are parked in carports
across
cells of the body. Unused machinery
has its idiom: one, it is slow to rev
up.
Ephemera like injury outlives its
utility.
Are postmortems for the mauled?
Smooth drives settle most dictions.
Postulation
Rent, this remoteness nods psychedelic
frames on mure to flag animation of a
new association. Sardined whereabouts
thrust the mind towards you. Purported
to be pard in absentia?
Compulsive need to splash, the
showiness
removes me from your resume. Not
litotes
but restraint. Subtlety is strength:
announce
onset without announcements. My other
love
must dial back.
Procedure
When pellets from their paradise
crack open strands, I instruct
myself to be buoyant. I domicile
in hallowed doctrines. Nothing
happens. I must be a recreant
devotee, I tell myself. I maturate
the moment I gain plenaries with
self. This isn’t a onetime-act. It’s
a process. One never grows up.
Champers
Nicety and nuance pad fissures
to ensue a fusillade of feelings
spill over into various forms.
Symmetry in stanza croons to
core: my hygiene to happiness.
Voices Within - Complete List of Poets :: Setu, January 2019
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