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continent

The ocean is now far
It's calm
It's lore 
Far resigned 
Frothing
& overcast
Poor Mighty Joe 
Who believed 
In the wayward farce 
Of sky
& hearth
Waffling tongue first
Upon the spigot 
An applejack gait
Childlike & trepidatious
In regards to you
But I am content

The rumbling is heard
Submerged in a greasy 
Damp head of hair
Not like his
Not like hers
Gray
& unkempt
Like calk on the basin
Keeping the tide 
From pouring over 
Another glass 
& it'll dry out 
Here in the murky 
2 feet of water 
Red skin & brave
Wrinkles in time spilled
With every clink of the tumbler
Wrinkles in a mind revealed 
But I am content

The bath runs hot
Bubbles & lavender multiply
Ice breaking in the steam
Tobacco crushed emotions 
All tastes sweet
All desires salt
These are your things
The things 
Which I am not supposed to believe
The passion that soaks up the dusk
The poison that sweats out the dawn
But I am content

To remind oneself 
There is no thing
Stare at a mirror in the dark
Lack reflection
Breathe in the cracks
Til you can't tell them apart
Drip dry
& tremble
Buttressed by numb tiles
Take comfort
In the absence of 
Fine linens 
& the abundance of sweat
Be content

A free mind is 
A boat out on the sea
In the calm of the storm
Open water & whitewash
The cost
Rowing out
Into a tub 
Filled with dirt & soap
The faith of a filthy life
Watching the spiral
Following it
To that 
Which waits beyond the walls & pipes
That blathering led you back into the cocoon 
Slapping on the walls as you plunged into another drink
The penance
Is a man 
Who is not what he thinks
But I am content

Max BarsnessComment