To hell with sequence, I say! My wife had surgery recently and it tore me apart–she is totally fine but my OCD was absolutely insane, hence the delay. So, I wrote this poem while in a very strange mood and it doesn’t sound like anything typical. I will try to post something more “typical” next week, but, as I said, to hell with sequence!, so who knows? Anyway, let me know what you think about this poem if you decide to read it.
I Crave a Nest in the Wall
Burrowed within the softest fiberglass,
Surrounded by newspaper, yarn scraps,
And twigs as fine as string, nestled as a
Singing bowl of my silence, echoing
Only the ringing in my ears, what’s left
Of conversations in the past life:
Piercing, stinging, prodding—just
A background buzzing reminder
That my life remains, yet, subdued,
Warmed, cocooned, now close to you.
I would watch you stare at our wall, alone,
Comforted by mutual loneliness—
The fact of our lives, intertwined and
Untouchable—my feeling for you will remain
Ethereal, even as you demystify yourself
In the mundane, becoming naked and
More beautiful than I have words for,
And when you dress, I will have nothing
But the lies you give to your friends,
And family, whatever is left of them.
When you are gone, I will collect
The fragments of your soul, trinkets
You will have forgotten, been unmarried to;
Ribbons, flecks of food, flaxen locks,
While whispering my warding mantra
I will take selfishly but selflessly enough
That I was never there, just invisible feet which
Cannot wake the dog; I undisturb your
Dwelling, telling the echoing walls all
The secrets you've hidden from yourself.
I will know when you return from work
And will be excited not to kiss you
But love you all the more as you undress,
Destress, and express an honesty which
We both were ignorant of before this day—
I will chitter in the walls with excitement
But I know you'll call an exterminator
If you were to find me, so I lay upon my nest
Of your unmissed things and watch,
Waiting for you to forget about me—
So that we can both co-exist in peace.
Jogging the Mind 