Subconscious thoughts forgot
Like the boys in my brain in charge of memory reclaim
…On there way to sane
Got lost and maimed
By bitter reframes
Ended up dirty corpses
Piled up in the valley of subconscious thought
Located between my train of thought and denial
They alter the flow
Slowing the process of Retrieval
Obscuring my mind mammoth
Turning it into an ant!
We’re making the mountain bigger and the hole smaller yes
We are just bursting with inadequacy here
With a fear of ourselves
A dislike, a deep, forbidden fear which others see so easy
We remain willfully ignorant to it
And I write this while driving down the street
Taking key words in strict focus on the words getting on the page without,
Swerving
Without curving the letters too bluntly:
Revelation
Drive downtown
Lady, prosthetic leg
Pushes carriage of
Dead sisters baby
Produce love out of unloved parts of our brain
Two romantic children shout across the street
Drive while writing
^ ^ ^ ^ ^
Main


And that’s it
Dolled up later?
Maybe…
Possibly…
I mean, come on…
Yes
Now.
Remembering.
Living.
A black woman with light blue cottony pants walks like a city skyline:
Shadows all choppy
Looming like tattered tired Gods
The sound the movement brings to my ears looms like hummingbirds attached to
a mouse wheel apparatus
It sounds like the sleeping city night
But mostly, her walk is unnatural
Like forced nature clustered in between the towers
Intriguing in its green escapism but unsettling in its gray overcast
reality
Still, I am very much so captivated
My, I think, yes one of her legs is, unnatural
This realization brings me to paint her as the bitter hero
The punishing underdog
For she carries weight with her walk
Maybe it belonged to her dead gypsy sister
Maybe it was birthed in a hut deep in the Pyrenees
Maybe…
She pushes a baby snug in his carriage
Getting spooked by the sound of all them cracks in the sidewalk that want to
devour him
They taunt the baby with every little bump until baby is eaten up and spit
out
Dripping in false emotions that seep deep into babies heart
Turning baby HUMAN
Baby gets pushed toward insanity…and a young boy walks towards baby
Dotting along, careless as his bag slips from his right shoulder,
Careens violently down his arm like a roller coaster of forced amusements,
And jerks and sways to an end at his wrist
Swiveling city air in whirls of corroded history
He yells to a girl walking beside him…on the other side of the street
It is a romantic sight, which would be lost
Lost in a culmination of thoughts and memories pushed deep down
Locked like a cameras flash
Until all is re-opened in one flash
Until I see the beautiful mangled woman and the oblivious children
Until I see the intricacies that make up my Human heart
It would all be lost
If it wasn’t for, this notepad, this life, momentarily living in the
present

 
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