Monday, August 28
IDITAROD
what happens is something catches
and instead of breaking like a clever weed
it comes compliantly out like a greased wire
after an epoch where everything acted
like an urchin’s spine on a hole punch
whole system walkabout, shedding parts.
it’s not unraveling if it wasn’t woven first.
tangled looks raveled if you’re troubled enough.
sometimes I am the original Iditarod of myself
and hold on through a dog eating solar flare.
other times I shoo away my learnings until
I can’t imagine that my dreams require work
or that other peoples’ do.
(Nathaniel Calhoun)