Tagged: pattern

even after some

even after some
time and distance,
with years under
the belt, we will not
see a pattern, there
will be holes
in routines, we will get
lost somewhere,
searching a false
bottom for a semblance
of stability


the trick to getting

the trick to getting
out of a sticky situation
is to fall apart
completely, deconstruct
so that you are no
longer a whole
onto yourself,
but a grain
of cosmic
dust, puzzle-
shaped and counting
on repeating patterns
to complete the picture

after some time, a

the patterns you

the patterns you
observe in time
are meant
to cushion every
anomaly, the way
packaging foam
hugs the curves
of each fruit
to hold the juices
in, keep from
so don’t
be restless, my
dear, don’t
insist that you are
bored. sink into
the patterns
of our lives,
soak it in between
the days, the years

perhaps with time, we

perhaps with time, we
all curl or spiral inwards
or is it that we

unwind, become loose, making
serpentine patterns here, there

there is an old, new

there is an old, new
paralysis – a hitchhiker
on the most bearable
days, a parasite on
the worst – that pins
down a hand, an
arm, a leg, a morsel
of every hour, crushing
the cells and membranes
of day. we feel
sick about it all
the time, emerge
from the stupor
spasmodically to ask
one another for best and
worst case scenarios,
readjust our negativity
bias for a version
of survival

the short answer is

the short answer is
gives weight
to the longer
answer, which can
manifest itself
all of a sudden
in the pattern of
blueberries as
they scatter across
the kitchen floor,
rolling from the
center of impact
after an early
morning fridge
escape, gravity
confirmed, parallel
universes shifting