HUBRIS

Otium est pulvinar diaboli

I have earned the right to stand and stare deep into the rat’s nest of cables at my feet
(Bees Murmuring in a Water Bucket).
My ears
ache.
I have worked
hard.
Small black tornado spinning stones form the middle of my brain;
small manner of passage blocked now my salt flat nose solid air my pits smell of root vegetables
torn from the black earth.
All these busy years.
Where have we gone now here he is and I am so arrived embraced,
coupled and crooked.
My beautiful blond heart traverses the eternal brown beach damp souls of my feet
all the brine pressed away by the motile pressure of my being.

Flat soles and stiff,
my every smooth step,
all that is evil where can I rest my bleary preaching all that is good
but zealous
where jaded impassioned
where goes my joy?