On Balance

What’s the past?
Are recollections flickers
caused by synapses
conflating to create
some yearned-for state?
Do certain places have
a potency because they are
the gates to timelessness –
where all you’d thought
had had to weight itself
towards “truth” prefers
the ruthless exposition
of a fat erotic juiciness?
Glimmers in a void?

Does remembering imply
the soul’s annoyed?
One can’t return because
one never leaves. (One
wonders why one ever
grieves.) I recollected centers
of a portion of my youth
today: at least it seems
that way. For moments:
lithe and full of pain
and lust and madness.
What a green quick shoot
I was! And maybe am.
On balance: gladness.


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