The Wading Hour

The Wading Hour
05/26/19

So now you’re feeling judged,
But who gave you the right
Here in my secret nation
Making yourself at home here in my thoughts tonight?
I just had some questions
That finally made it out my mouth,
Few of which got answered
Verbally as it all headed south.

What a tangled web we weave.
How dare we be contrite,
Looking down our noses
At the loopholes brought into the light.

You say I was a dick.
You say you were an a*****e.
Well I suppose you may know, Dear.
Yeah, I suppose you may know.

How does it feel?
How does it taste?
Behind the veil,
The fruit that we waste?

When the truth, it rips?
When the truth, it tears?
When faced with this resistance?
When the facade disappears?

Reluctantly I reach out.
Reluctantly I am still.
We hesitate to pick up our plates,
When with crow they are filled.

We bend our wills.
We cordially bite our tongues.
We put on our taps
And dance with the damage done.

And so we clasp the harness,
And so we sheath the blades,
And so we box the shadows
And sleep in the beds we’ve made.

And we light-up to remember.
And we light-up to forget.
We crank up the volume,
And we turn our heads.

We numb out the nothings,
And drown out the somethings,
And we sing out the softness
In strained-from-screaming voices.

Even in our whispers.
Even in our breaths.
So much release now.
So much life and death.

Blow by fatal blow;
Bloom by blooming flower,
Bring in the ringing oars, Dear -
Thus be the wading hour.

Unfurl the colors,
Hang them from the tower.
Blow the horn atop Mt. Babel -
Such is the wading hour.

Suggest no more;
Suggest no less.
Be restless and ecstatic
In loathsome tenderness.

Forget me.
Forget me not.
Cut me from your wrists
In tendrils.
Paint me educated,
Having floated upon bliss.