where oh where

Is the good ship to sail?

Beating through the wall is the sound of the dance of someone else. Now is the time to pry the body and beast from the bed and to forgo the petty alliterative mind funk.

This is the good ride to ride.

This is the good house to home.

This is a lie that says it doesn’t mean a thing.

Erasure, closure, censure, and good night.

Never travel back in time, to the place where things made sense, never open up that door, never close that window, never shut in the light, always open the breastbone to the sun, always forget, never remember, always look up, always remember, never forget, never look away from the painful and gentle, never close your eyes, never open your eyes, always open your eyes.

Yours is a petty story, even to yourself.

Let’s talk about something else for a change.

Categorized as musing

By Eleanor Jackson

Eleanor Jackson is a Filipino Australian poet, performer, arts producer, cyclist, writer, gal about town, feminist, freewheeler, and friend.

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