The rain outside bends to receive the wind
Imprints of something invisible
In the quivering atmosphere
A resolute mark on the inclement
We’re like the rain, I guess
Made up of lots of little particles
Affected by things we cannot see
I’m learning to let parts of me pass away
To internal phase shifts
as in any complex system
The virus that followed me home,
That came home with me,
Is why yesterday I had a conversation with a friend
8 metres apart.
“I feel like it’s the sex thing,” she shouted.
“It’s normal to need physical contact,” I yelled back.
This is the closest I’ve been to someone in a week.
We hit the road early (for us)
For sudden rocky slopes
and violent waters that almost parody themselves
In their caricature of beauty
We were hesitantly obedient
And at times gleefully disobedient
Of the paths carved out of the rugged landscape
We stuck to the trail
And deviated from it
And lamented at the transformation
Of nature into artefact
Behind guide rails designed to keep us safe
I guess sometimes
Back in the city, A land oozing with excess And deprivation We’re reminded by the news That at the helm of this ship Is a wig Vomiting saccharine disclaimers Full steam into the iceberg ahead
It was this home that gave me the virus While I was swimming in the faulty determinism Of my general perception: Are cities good? Or are they bad?
I settled on bad, With all their disturbed glitches and Furtive sideways stares The heady disorientation That comes with the caustic tweak of daylight Reflected off platinum rims on graceless highways
But then I met a woman Who let me walk her to her car because her back hurt 10 minutes, ambling on a cracked sidewalk Her wrinkled hand Nestled into the fold of my arm single handedly reversed The murky and perverse
Tug of urban disease.
It’s a clunky process, Building this new normal. Finding our way through An opaque and foreign Hierarchy. Perhaps you, too, have collided with truth The jagged reality
that nothing is real The monstrous system, greedy and self-important turned to a puddle at our feet Overnight
Leaving us with what? Ourselves, Alone with Each other.