I’m Fine?

Buenos.

It was a muggy day. I cleaned today, came home, ate two slices of pizza, a hamburger and all the fixings, crunched a popsicle-those long skinny ones, read an essay, skimmed the news, contemplated soaking my feet because I blistered them yesterday by walking on 100 degree asphalt (I must be the only person whose heels aren’t calloused), and observed a tractor and disk in the field across the road. Such finesse. Such handling of a lumbering monster. Blessed are the farmers.

I feel like I should have a little preface before I post the poem. I wrote this piece about a year ago. It has nothing to do with now. I’m going through my documents and trying to find the small bits or courage to share my older written pieces. Some of them are more personal, but I believe in a great deal of openness. That’s how the light shines through.

This life is like a spiral, winding far and away into space, out of my reach, leaving me far behind. 

Leaving me far behind, outstretched hands but empty, trying to hold nervous chaos inside.

Nervous chaos inside, a headache knocking at the door, too busy, too stressful, I'm fine, fine. 

I’m fine, fine, but not fine at all, at breaking point, ripping thread, a fragile dewy spider web. 

There you go.

G’day mate.