WORDS • IDEAS: J R TUREK
Desideratum
I write because I’m spilling over the banks of my reservoir, filling buckets of preservation with angst. I write because my shoes are stellar stop traffic everywhere I go but they hurt to the center of my heart. I write because the morning is grey and I’m resisting melancholy by wearing neon purple. I write because my dog thinks I invented language and he heels at my every spoken command. I write because the gutters in my head are leaking over the ledge of sanity and it just keeps pouring. I write because the rice burned and stuck to the bottom of my favorite pot. I write because the birds are singing a song I once knew but forgot all the words. I write because the frames in my mind are full of people I don’t know and they keep hopping from place to place. I write because it is windy in Kansas raining in California and the sun is shining down on me. I write because if I didn’t I would explode, implode, reload my poem revolver and shoot.
PAGE 49 | THE PURPOSEFUL MAYONNAISE
