Ode to AnswersA Poem by Meghan AnnOde to Answers Clearly one expects to discover a ‘thing’ … -What have you learned and if so tell it to me. -Okay. MANY THINGS EXIST. Mountains; marijuana, music, Nietzsche; Camus. Dead
languages. Portland, OR (“where young people go to retire!”), Missoula, MT.
Nomadism. Hermitude. Agriculture. DFW, infinite jest, LSD, postmodernism, astronaucy.
We must go to a place with high places. Outside the grocery store, under the awning, as it starts to
pour: water falls from the sky onto the people, here. It
does. This happens often, and they don't think much of it. Miracles like that! That
it’s not enough just to say ‘I am incredibly unhappy.’ There will be a time and
a space for recounting everything in exquisite, painstaking detail, and once or
twice while quietly tangled, your stories will match up. Miracles like that. --recall there was a list. And when there is a
list you must be able to repeat it in your head while walking in the sun on
certain harsher days; or in bed hurting, or on a plane, or else what’s the
point of a list. Now the shade is shrinking back with the strange force of a memory returning, Stop. The source of your dissatisfaction is: a) contemplation b) conversation c) false
idolatry d) the music’s too good at what it does to you, what it makes you want e) also
dehydration; indecision; lack of exercise; lack of sun; excessive starches Come back only to the times that were: sharp, frantic, peaceful;
meltingly brilliant. Vulnerable organic matter, small and strange and full of
liquid, with hollow hands. Sun like cream and sugar on your neck. Perfect the sound. - Many things go on and on and always; but not
you. -Here is where you are able to accept things:
stand in the graying light of a late fall landscape, wet cold country road, and
under the ambient cover of crunch of leaves and breeze, you whisper what you
know. Louder now. All is well. Find the color; find the sound. The wind stops
itself completely. You listen; choose. A car comes. And you put your headphones
back in and run away on searing legs.
-Repeat. © 2017 Meghan AnnReviews
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Added on May 20, 2016Last Updated on January 1, 2017 Related WritingPeople who liked this story also liked..
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