thought is resentful backlash said
to retort the unspoken now.
I somehow keep a visual menu directly in my face.
eyes wide open, scouting all that is familiar.
mind shouting names of recognizable things.
looking for the unknown, only to passively avoid.
constantly on the brink of inner dialogue
in high contrast to the world around me.
if the outer world is all too familiar
then the inner discourse get much louder.
now is always at the door, inviting.
looking out the window but not through the glass,
then those spaces between thoughts get tiny.
maybe it is all just anxiety about the unknown
or pride in the known defending itself directly.
but thought seems to be pushy and self centered.
even if I try for no thoughts,
thoughtfulness is the hired manager,
keeping track of time and thoughts of thought
and then numbers of thoughts
and then the cover ups possible
or the outright denial of any thoughts as thoughts.
everything I am aware of is in a shoebox of thought.
a shoebox in a carton, in a case, in a container,
in a load being delivered even if not ordered.
any sense of escape is monitored as a story of escape.
unplug the inner mike and then there is whisper.
shush the whisper and one of those inner voices speaks up.
and none of those inner voice speak in now!
it’s a village of thought ponderously in waiting.
I just want to go sit with a rock and absorb nothing.
yes the grandness of nothing but the rock-talk of now . . .
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