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The Bitch and Bastard for Walking Away - Part I
The Pecan Tree
From this dim-lit porch, the magnified shadows of camouflaged moths and mosquito hawks bounce under the Sylvania bulb. June-bugs buzz on random flights, landing awkwardly on clay-toned bricks, holey screens, piles of junk-mail, and in my uncombed hair. I glaze over miles of Marlboro's cherry-glow into this inner-city jungle.
Sickly ferns arch the cracked walkway beside Empress Wu's colony. Strays find shelter among her dense stalks. A litter of felines pew, possums faint; juicy roaches skitter through crumpled leaves. Dead switch strangles a leaning birdbath, climbing into the pecan tree's silhouette.
The missing pile of leaves around my amusement is tempting to inquire; however, the common lens reveals dirt, not the journey to it's current state of disintegration. Focus on the present hides insight like the shell of a nut. When is shame distilled?
Suppose I'm confused to claim never as a reasonable excuse for strange tongues and a demon's captivation of ink on paper. Oh, I'm forgetful, but sentimental sometimes. I've lost count of how many times I've rounded the sunshine carousel by moonlight on my favorite pony-step.
In all of this pacing here and there, racing thoughts, words, and actions, I've refrained from stepping off of the Yellow Brick Road out of fear of never returning from the wild. Adventurous before a stiff-finger flipped the switch, now content vomiting Lao-tzu's secrets in this rundown sanctuary:
A tree that is unbending is easily broken.
Tao Te Ching, Chapter 76
From this dim-lit porch, the magnified shadows of camouflaged moths and mosquito hawks bounce under the Sylvania bulb. June-bugs buzz on random flights, landing awkwardly on clay-toned bricks, holey screens, piles of junk-mail, and in my uncombed hair. I glaze over miles of Marlboro's cherry-glow into this inner-city jungle.
Sickly ferns arch the cracked walkway beside Empress Wu's colony. Strays find shelter among her dense stalks. A litter of felines pew, possums faint; juicy roaches skitter through crumpled leaves. Dead switch strangles a leaning birdbath, climbing into the pecan tree's silhouette.
The missing pile of leaves around my amusement is tempting to inquire; however, the common lens reveals dirt, not the journey to it's current state of disintegration. Focus on the present hides insight like the shell of a nut. When is shame distilled?
Suppose I'm confused to claim never as a reasonable excuse for strange tongues and a demon's captivation of ink on paper. Oh, I'm forgetful, but sentimental sometimes. I've lost count of how many times I've rounded the sunshine carousel by moonlight on my favorite pony-step.
In all of this pacing here and there, racing thoughts, words, and actions, I've refrained from stepping off of the Yellow Brick Road out of fear of never returning from the wild. Adventurous before a stiff-finger flipped the switch, now content vomiting Lao-tzu's secrets in this rundown sanctuary:
A tree that is unbending is easily broken.
Tao Te Ching, Chapter 76
Published 30th Jul 2019
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31st Jul 2019 3:11am
31st Jul 2019 4:27am
I'm glad to hear you're enjoying it. I've been working on part 2 since Saturday.
