Rank: Novice

You come to learn how hard
you should have fought that
sunrise sliding cloud sarcophagus
snuffing the pink rising sun
screamed your lungs out in protest
until lying like a bloodied
sea creature on the floor of the Portland
Airport. Kicked against that vapour
that stone until tarsals snapped
and swelled in your shoes
Anything to keep the chambers open

You come to learn that
crying on the platform of
the Verona station at 5:30 AM;
the last one standing;
was worth every life-giving
electrolyte your body could spill.
That every stifled failure to move to
stop that train
start that flight
arrive shivering and snow covered
in Central Park to finally meet
the doorman and your view
and your mom
and give even ever so slightly of yourself
to grow into what you can’t allow yourself to
think you can be,
was in error.
Were C-grade moves
Were able to shuffle the game forward
risk free
one blue peg in the car
down the elm lined avenue

You come to learn that all of these things
didn’t really teach you a damn thing
or that the lesson you took on
was orthogonal to the purpose
was a conscious projection of how
a stilted sense, of halting at the wrong moment
making the false move
that your opposition in traffic misinterprets
and winds up obliterating everything you knew
into a molecular soup
with no grounds to push off of

Rank: Novice

you start again
winding across the cosmic disk
hopefully accreting the right things
ready to move by gravity
not fearful deliberation
into a whole of experience
and of happiness
and a spherical sense
of craggy well being


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