Bearings

WITH LOVE AND DREAD AND RAGE AND LOVE,
Or is it anticipation
cut perversely
Something must happen
Dear ones, say you
feel it too
Parts of my body are blank
It's not a wish but it's also
not Cassandra
I think about the word era
I'm working on ferocity
and frankness:

This poem fails
Here an affect there
an affect
Let's reclaim sad
Is it foreboding if
it's factual
Okay a little wish
I think about the words
period of my life
It's an endurance act
Her father dies and I keep
wading
He has to see the cardiologist
I want to commit to the
poem but I can't
I get cold and cultivate selfishness
She says each generation is called
a word in the poem
I write patience in my notebook
I wait for my period and drink
a Corona
I try to make it a speech act
Have I given myself permission
to inhabit my body
I think about the alien inside
I think about the phrase
unwanted advances
Parts of our bodies are blank
I put my fingers on
your coronaries
Come at me