Cracked Polystyrene

A velveteen breeze, warm and tropical

Lifts my heart and body intact.

A sour gale pushes back in my grin

And leaves me wonderin’.

I am eating colour charts for breakfast

without a single calorie past my lips.

Outside leaves a lot to the imagination

or not as cars go past with occupants

Going somewhere to work or to play.

How this mess works is beyond me

but somehow we balance the books and get by.

My spirit lies in a moment and ready or not

music comes along and sweeps it up to

a  place twanging at my heart strings

and bringing to mind sadness or joy to which I attach chains of causality.

The web

in which my moment is

‘Freedom’ afforded by my condition constrains

me  like a chain

ties a pig to a yard. If I could put countries, counties and continents

under myself I would be replete with miles and new strange customary and culinary pleasures.

And language and science and religion, barbecues and books.

Because this world is a rich tapestry.

 

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