holiday blues
it is sunny
you are on the beach
you are still a dog
but i like dogs
so that can't be it
she is talking about herself, again,
it's mediterranean golden sands and phthalo blues and conifer, here,
but it's march in wales
but like, what happens when she reaches the cliff, anyway,
like what, really, does she want?
you wrote a character who just wants it to be over
(on some level, everything, always, sometimes)
it's authorial insert with a twist
oh yes, everything is a challenge, for her,
the doing and the mask of wanting to
don't be selfish
but worst of all there is no plot,
there is only world building
world fatiguing
world losing
it's nothing, sedimented, and steeped in history
at 38 degrees
at some mid-tempo longitude
and you can't blame it on the winter anymore
all the winters are in her
concatenating
and how can a summer compete
who knows the consequent?
so give her a cliff to approach - it's funny -
she actually goes
and why?
i try to puzzle it out,
and i think it is something like hope
the hope that purpose follows action
(will follow, sometime)
that following through will bring it back
will have made it exist
and the thing is, i know it does not,
and it does
it's just a matter of perception, again,
i talk myself in circles and
pretend parallels meet at the horizon
it's the only way any scene makes sense
and every girl needs a table to approach -
call it what you want -
and what do i want to call it? and does it all start with not being like this?
you know, i don't think you can just sit there on the deck
until there is no horizon,
stranded
and you can't escape to space, either,
you are not that person
and it's an empty promise of nothing, anyway. who wants a worse table? it's the answer to a riddle about what's worse than a table you don't know? or don't know you can reach? or don't know you can't reach? or can exist in relation to you? an incomprehensible void of table rendered inevitable by what? it ruins the collective table we already have. like, the only birth-right.
look, sit in a dark room glooming,
shadows passing under the door
on holiday as elsewhere
or go to the beach and see some cliffs
approach them
it's just the pretended promise of something,
i think,
maybe a nice bird
or a melody
well,
we walked into the sea at sunset, today,
to feel alive
it was figuratively freezing
it was easier than the lake at home
because you just walk out
and after a while a wave takes you
and the air was thick with particulate from yesterday's swale fire
and i think i saw every colour
every colour in every point between the sun and the horizon
which met my eye
at the waterline
and i did