I am my own symphony
pitched
into a chorus of
likeminded,
you,
scattered across the globe.
It is with
you
that I take each small step
in a truth
of hot coals and laughter.
For “I am
totally f(un)-employed,”
while I chant
this affirmation
to my self-doubt and determination.
It is a story
telling itself into new becoming
of starts and stutters,
those utter stutters of life
unfolding
as it will,
struggling to be,
unfettered.
I am my own symphony:
one note—"turn on, tune in, drop out!”
one note—charting course of no-none-sense
one note—speaking its own true social death
one note—scoring, from self-orchestrated rock-bottom-soaring.
So, this is it:
life unfolding as it will
when it won’t be
chain ganged
in the common sense of destinations known.
This is it,
unhinged in fuzzy landscapes
of half drawn portraits of me (w/ or w/o you)
g/painfully
transforming.