Always Error
These happen on a daily basis now.
Usually it starts at home after
long and tiring days of office work.
It has become an unspoken pattern.
The door closes after entering the
house. No words are spoken for hours on
end; even when one room has them in it.
Finally a small sound breaks the
silence.
It is like the house cannot handle it.
All it takes is that small sound to
ignite
the fire that has been consuming them
for what feels like an eternity now.
In reality it has been a month.
Soon the waving of arms and stomping of
feet echo through the halls of this once
filled
house. The children have moved to go to
school.
Except the one that was lost very young.
Adapting to the new life and thinking
which was forced on to the family with
no
warning or preparations for the day.
The car accident that took him from them
was terrible and the hospital made
things worse while they waited for him
to come
out of the coma; but he never did.
Now all it takes is the crack of the
floor
and their world comes crashing like it
did before.
Each time the motions get larger and change
into rage, grief, and painful memories.
Everyone tells them that time heals all
wounds;
but the error in their lives always
shows.
__________________________________________________________________
Poem of the Day: Have A Good One [In the Error] by Anselm Berrigan
In the error
thinking of non-intervention
with you. A red sun
(don’t look) pokes
through.
Staging
development and the cutting
loose of its facile integrity
its disproportionate
personal non-response.
The wince. The shrug. The
belated semi-acknowledgment
of owning just
enough to take part.
In
the era, thinking of you
will quit my job
in one year to get
more done, work harder
to
insert myself into
the fragile extension
of space between us
to get something done.
In
the ear
thinking after you.
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