<\/p>\n

Dear Reader,<\/strong><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

This morning the world tried its best to tuck me back in.<\/p>\n

I\u2019ve been writing from the demilitarized zone<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Of my chest and the weather is almost always clouds.<\/p>\n

Who can recall the sun with all this posturing?<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I heard a woman say, \u201cWe ought to live more real life.\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The next morning I climbed a stool in my kitchen<\/p>\n

And cried for a little more normal.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I prayed for the lightbulbs I\u2019ve yet to screw in,<\/p>\n

The weeds congregating the slabs up the walkway.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

There\u2019s a prayer for every sadness because God<\/p>\n

Is more a Zamboni than a fine-tooth comb.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Think of prayer as a tremendous pressure kettle whose<\/p>\n

Whistling reaches a fever pitch in times of grief.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Think of man as a macaroni portrait made to look like God.<\/p>\n

What I\u2019m saying is, there\u2019s an art to living.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I heard a woman say, \u201cShe never stopped doing the things<\/p>\n

that make her feel satisfied.\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

May I come in and join you in front of the tv?<\/p>\n

I\u2019ve got so much catching up to do.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

How about the dinner table?<\/p>\n

I once dined with a pastor who loved exotic spices.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

After we prayed, he\u2019d sprinkle atomic sauce<\/p>\n

On his pepperoni slices, while<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I praised the Scotch Bonnets<\/p>\n

On my family\u2019s deserted table.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

It\u2019s true.<\/p>\n

My mother will always be driving home from work.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The meek shall inherit a deeply flawed ball of yarn,<\/p>\n

This isn\u2019t a parable.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I heard a man say, \u201cWe\u2019re at a place in history where we know better.\u201d<\/p>\n

I said, \u201cI know, I know, I know.\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

* \u00a0* \u00a0*<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n

Fear<\/strong><\/p>\n

for Andrei Bolkonsky<\/em><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Suppose it rose, a coffin<\/p>\n

among swimmers<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Suppose it was a hand,<\/p>\n

brittle as the fall it was meant to break<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

What alliances have you made<\/p>\n

in the name of senescence<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Suppose it could be shed and hidden in corners,<\/p>\n

behind appliances and doorways<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Suppose it couldn\u2019t<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Suppose it was the surface of the moon<\/p>\n

and only a privileged few could describe it exactly<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Suppose it had no color<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Suppose you had no idea what to make of it<\/p>\n

and instead of cowering you sang<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

* \u00a0* \u00a0*<\/strong><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n

we are not born in pieces<\/strong><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

we come whole\u2013<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

at some point we<\/p>\n

ingest the notion<\/p>\n

of a splintered self<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

as though it should be cultivated<\/p>\n

b\/c it catches light just so<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

as if only glass could capture light<\/p>\n

no!<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

these forgone tremors are<\/p>\n

a mirror we do not need<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

we are much more than<\/p>\n

that which has attempted to break us<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

celebrate your wholeness<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

everything is going to be okay<\/p>\n

I promise<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

This morning the world tried its best to tuck me back in.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":7,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[9,6],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-4944","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-best-of-ducts","category-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/ducts.sundresspublications.com\/content\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4944","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/ducts.sundresspublications.com\/content\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/ducts.sundresspublications.com\/content\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/ducts.sundresspublications.com\/content\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/7"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/ducts.sundresspublications.com\/content\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=4944"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"http:\/\/ducts.sundresspublications.com\/content\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4944\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":4948,"href":"http:\/\/ducts.sundresspublications.com\/content\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4944\/revisions\/4948"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/ducts.sundresspublications.com\/content\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=4944"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/ducts.sundresspublications.com\/content\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=4944"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/ducts.sundresspublications.com\/content\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=4944"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}