Napo-prequel 3/31/25: Portrait

 Napowrimo returns tomorrow. I use this excellent website for daily prompts. Here's my response to the "Early Bird" prompt for 3/31.

 might as well-stare to stun/the eyes, windows to
the soul and what not/soul full of malice, partially chewed
circus peanuts and washed down with an RC cola/scowling-
all of the world is rage, becoming a column of flame to reheat
yesterday's dinner/born feral-made domestic/might as well-something
behind that glance/mysteries to unravel-something to unpack/worth
these 1000 words-or not/the jury is still out/they've been hard at work though,
rest assured/soon we'll know what everyone else is thinking/might as well-
use it to make up our own mind while we're at it/unblinking/dignified\might as well//

yung rage

 

an angel tears its wings from its back

and remains afloat for a moment, before tumbling

below the heavens. 

i’ve never been so sure of anything really

when the tearing of celestial feathers

meets thunderclap, meets heaven’s laments

on a half-hearted trumpet solo

lined up with no more hosannahs

at least for the day. no one smiles.

sometimes, the action itself

too far from done, resists

an easy fix.

no amount of stitching,

our fathers, and rosary

beads make it right.

god had dreamt a world

of peace. These damn kids kept

getting into the blood of christ.

someone had to put their foot

down. Someone had to restore

order. and no one knew the 

resolve of one stubborn

angel. performance art, 

maybe. a statement made.

silence, like winter. we

imagine peace. really,

it’s just waiting though

instant decision

small jolts

zaps from the static

a lullaby to sloth

a scratch to the edifice

little by little the decision is cast

the record needs flipping

the righting of wrongs

revision of the cosmos, reorganizing

celestial impasses. each a renegotiation.

limitless, slumber

drenched in tartar sauce and regret

i’m never leaving this couch again

not on your life because i refuse to put it

on my own.

 

careen

 

oh little simple thing    limited    listless thing
dredged up from a storm                        blameless thing

sweet and filled with solace    how the world
is want to see your sleep disrupted                cast down    from                great heights

torn by wind and other elements            precious thing
i would do what is necessary to shelter

protect    you    my little sleeping            marred 
homebody-without-a-home

i would build from                        the rafters                little thing
a swing    bassinet            cradle                    for your rest

i will it    into    existence        into real
and let us enjoy the moment                precious thing

for you    the world                for you
this is not                                                                                            enough.

slop

 

dream this little dream into a winking existence,
knowing. little bits of a bigger realization. dawning
on me. soon. i should have been kinder when i had
the chance. should have. soon. little by little. these
moments escape me. time, this conveyor belt 
setting. whiz by. soon. at the end of the film.
minutes remain. precious minutes. dream this little
dream.

soon. letters on the chalkboard. marks on the
wall, measure my growing disappointment.
myself. soon. myself, this little dream, dreaming.
before long. we're almost done here. soon. only
in dreams.

i will try something different.

slap

 

bing bop boom bop bing bop bam bop boom bop bam
and i made a million dollars on a song
and i spent a million dollars for a dream
and i made another million slinging supplements
and hawking my wares in a public space
on a public platform and where my voice is one
that drowns out the many

zip zap zop zim zalla zam zapparoo
and i told you a million times
how i made it in this cold world with no
blanket, no pot to take the proverbial piss
no step to step to, no home to hang my hat,
no heart to call my own. and i want you to 
feel this sadness and say, ok, and move along 
with your day. move on up. move on down. get
a little closer to the thing that makes and unmakes 
me. 

grimgramgoogrimgargroos
cut it and print it
smelt it and bake it
give me the goodness

and this right here, my american dream come true