deepundergroundpoetry.com

Reconstructing

Your ideas hang low  
a starched shirt for a ceiling  
until thread bare    
and sweat stained in August.  
   
You look for relief; a waterhole  
of inspiration to save yourself  
from freezing in winter -  
a shard of stagnant ice  
coating your shallow grave.  
   
You imagined each other outdoors  
or in the backseat of solitude  
where you tugged for belonging  
until vows spilled like wine  
from the bottle of your throats  
and your future was forged.  
   
Each night the tugging became  
more conservative, haunted  
by what watched you  
from the shadows;  
the You that roamed ghostly  
through additions to the house.  
   
You go looking for the days  
when you were more sedimentary  
than conglomerate.  
   
It's easy to say you haven't arrived yet  
it's easy to listen for birds to migrate  
make plans for then, make plans  
when dusk illuminates your face  
that genius seed that smirks  
sprouting from who You are  
when you're unseen.  
   
It was easier in the years before    
remembering how to go back home  
searching for recognizable  
and large landmarks  
the forked highway, the ditch  
the mangled 10-speed  
and smashed mirror  
the white birch such a wizard  
at shedding its skin.  
   
You're surrounded by ghosts  
it's easy to shut a door  
and your mouth to their existence  
so as not to disrupt the tension  
of fixtures you daily navigate    
   
But, tonight, you're Reconstructing  
open that bottle of champagne  
flirt with yourself until aroused  
jump up and down on beds  
despite wrinkling the duvets  
   
Tonight be fair with yourself  
tonight don't lie to yourself  
tonight Exorcise yourself  
so the Spirits can Live  
tonight empty conservative  
like yesterday's trash  
Let there be live shows in French  
with cats speaking the language  
because it's easy to say  
you've been surrounded  
but now it's Your time to surround the area  
   
Yellow ribbon it for what's emerging  
chalk outline the driveway  
carve and bash the pumpkins  
spit out their bullet seeds    
   
Do what Humans do  
when liberated:  
   
Get naked, kiss everyone  
dance with the ghosts  
have a banquet of potatoes  
sharpen the charcoal  
hone the poems and lyrics  
   
Seduce your Alliteration  
fondle Your Half-rhyme hard  
suckle the breasts of Consonance  
and anal-fuck Assonance  
   
Because you've been Activated  
and You aren't ever going back              
             
♒            
             
             
 
Written by Ex-Machina (Ava)
Published | Edited 29th May 2017
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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