Saturday, November 9, 2013



Balanced isn’t equal
when you’re past a certain plateful.

To work, add play.
To carbs and sugar, fiber.
Thumb-rule metrics scan
in primers for everyday,
but fall apart utterly
when real shit hits the fan.

With vigils and disasters
it’s the rush to reinstall normal
that’s most apt to topple
the precarious possible.

In sickrooms and typhoons
only a cartoon mariner           
locates a private Ararat           
from which to salute the wreckage.

You have to be swept away first.
Tacking back from ruin, you may be of use. 

You can’t let yourself
be sucked down, the well-meaning
explain. But their own un-sucked-down
serenity is obscene. 

Getting through
in one piece
is much, very much. Not      

Motion studies show
any walk a staggering fall.

A cup that’s brimful
avoid spill.

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