I am in the middle of the atmospheric, “I know’.
there is a stiff presence of certitude bearing down on me.
I am standing in the fall season of topic,
ready to harvest a full array of words.
it feels migratory.
looking for a lead homing pigeon of direction
to signal a launch.
it is a seizure of sensibility soon, forth coming,
a shake down of logic,
a frisk of explanation, having a due process
as if I am supposed to stand
in an allegiance posture to speak.
assuming the world is readied
for a need-to-know bias to actualize,
to which I somehow, standing in innocence,
topically loaded, in a presumed to be worthy and true.
so “blah blah blah” happens,
and I am as if the inwardly indolent twin overhearing.
I don’t care for my blankey of knowledge.
I don’t live for the insistence of verbiage.
‘knows’ came and go, so what?
what is so special about that state of occupancy?
I’d rather be phased and empty.
I’d rather wander in idle and feel for the light.
I don’t need the monkey of me,
in my tree top brain, sounding off
as if aloudness was supposed by fact,
for these postures of full blown conviction.
launches to satisfy, are episodic
as if I am in a fact photo shoot.
I don’t want a career in modeling truth grandly spoken.
I’d rather get intimate grainy, sweat with it and eat sand!
I want to hang out with nextness, without introductions.
find for me where sleep and awake meet and exchange.
I want that baton
but without context or texture explained.
I want to be where grind convenes
but before its first embracive move.
I want to meet up with precision
before its act-out occurs.
I want where tire meets the road as long lost friends
even if it is only nanoseconds of worth exchanged.
I don’t want to hack knowledge
and call that my life .
get me a buzz cut of truth
and give me sheer sheen non sequitur existence.
I want to taste the forthcoming before it is named,
for recognition is potential bad breath brewing.
I want life without the cover-to-cover fall back position.
‘know’ is so stayed and passive a stance to be in.
I don’t want frames, still shots, and to say.
go away from me
with that acknowledged agreement crap.
let’s just meet up and be . . .