Aspiced Hypervigilance


Aspiced Hypervigilance

I need the right to be confused, slightly,
Arrows wing: curve, twist steady to point
Disease fanatics wring, shout: unrightly.
Pick things up and put them down, deannoint.

Mountainfolk look severe, intense, rattled
Or else chug Russian Tea from 1888
Erasing and taking brat from brattled
So foodways get clogged instead of pine floors.

They call us sunny, and want to feel hair
Under foot, damned as slamp while too bushy
Overstanding sans comprehension – mare!
Calculating weight instead of farming.

Food blossoms slowly: fecund, happy, sane
So what we get is boiled puckers, afraid.
Pinched low-income pride making prides of pain
Out of time screaming up bloody sunrise.

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This Poems Story

Somewhat autobiographical, this is a reaction to the folks I pity and a call to be respected for not living like a robotnik with machined movements that never include serendipity.