Infinite Monkey

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Let Me Show You to Your Room

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locustsMake room for you.
YOU say
Make room?
What room is not yours?
What room is not drenched with your disposition?
Does not hang with the drip of your hot, wet wool?
(Let’s all check our pulses. Will we be allowed our joy today?)
What room
does not brighten with the opening of your heart and eyes and ears and mouth and mind,
ushering in the light and air?
(Let’s all gather round, arms wide chins up and soak up the beam of this ecliptic moment.)

Do you need space?
Is that what you require?
the kind of space for thought
that allows you to fully marinate
in all that would have
and the could haves
(or maybe the should haves)
time to while away the hours
pulling off the petals
of your disappointment

undistracted
by the sounds of life
unencumbered by the chatter of the outside world
or daily chores and the bothers of things that lie in wait
like making beds, eating meals and the requisite dishes to be washed
(or the uninvited assault of this familial attention)
no news or entertainment or conversation
is serious enough

unfettered
You will finally (at long last)
be allowed to hear the lyrical lure of your unsatiated consumption
explore the addiction riddled holes you dig within yourself
excavating the abandoned, locked up inside your windowless room

YOU just NEED
to have this quiet
asked not just of yourself, but of everyone
of the world at large (and your son at small)
alien — you are still uncomfortable with these human beings
but you don’t wander away — No!
Make room for me, YOU shout
just the simple silence
you say
(of your own self-destruction, as it whispers)
murmuring soft and low
entering your ear, razor sharp
With no unwanted input or reactions
no information or unapproved interaction
Just you —
alone (but without the lonely)
Stay (but leave me alone)
in the basement of your thoughts
left to pick through
what your crickets left behind
drooling with your “desire for . . .”
frothing those eggs of obsession
and incubating new nymphs
to feed upon the last lick of crumbs
until the stillness is complete

Pardon our mess
Don’t let our chaos intrude
It’s just the same old, same old
not important
only the noise and dust
(of living)
Here let me clear this space for you
get the stuff of life out of your way
and make some room

Make some room —
for what?
Make some room implies
that we will clear a space amongst ourselves
near or next to one another
that we will SHARE this journey
that we are going the same direction
But there IS
no room
in your bottomless basement
for us

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Written by Rainee Squatch

September 14, 2013 at 11:44 am

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