Self and reality. Symbol and language. Myth and image. Memory and consciousness.
Dream and unreality: locus communis.

Monday, November 10, 2014

As an Afterthought

Yesterday, by nightfall, after hours of reworking ideas in my notebook, I resented the developing ghazal. It irritated me, as a sore tooth, a constant reminder of an unresolved issue. Throbbing. Waking me up in the middle of the night. Motioning into awareness, out of strange dreams, alien landscapes with foreign suns.
So tonight I purposely ignore the concept. Avoid the notes. Attempting to forget the full point, momentarily. Allow some time to subconsciously rework the full broken bridges of phrases—
At the bottom of the nightstand drawer— a button. Blueblack. Ordinary. Yet. I have no recollection of the shirt it belongs to. Or if I found it on the stairway and just brought it into the bedroom as an afterthought. A casual act instantly forgotten.

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