Winter 2020, a dreamlike recollection
Recalling a Midnight Walk in Port McNicoll
Help me shed
my exoskeleton
I feel like like setting something on fire
I feel like crying
I feel like creating
I feel like destroying
Port McNicoll
cold night
walking in the dark
see the stars
hear the crunch
forged by footfall
don’t slip on that ice there
crunch crunch crunch
silence punched
with pursuit
breath audible
visible
in the dark
rub my eyes
to clear the dark
crunch crunch crunch
two people making one
set of tracks in the snow
around the inlet now
find the path
to the narrow
a strip
no longer tying boats
to a bustling port
just dried up
riparian plants
taking their
liminal space
beneath the snow
grounded by ice
liquidated by spring
I feel like setting myself on fire
I feel like filling my pockets with rocks
and following the wolf’s path
though already a rebirth of her future
still struggling
same shit
different lifetime
I have a lot of
feeling
I feel a lot of
energy
inside but it wants
to escape
a timid body
no longer sufficient
material
for a growing
energetic field
unknowing
that it’s simply
a trap of
attachment
to retain such runty residence
wanting to scream into the night
finally
screaming into the night
Port McNicoll
cold and still
crunch crunch crunch
snow changes to gravel
and we have found
piles and piles
now we need to climb or run
to keep moving forward
I’m the Queen of the Castle
I’m the King of the Castle
you’re the dirty rascal
YOU’RE the dirty rascal
made true by the rusty
sand on his face
dust on his clothes
so much gravel here
we wonder why they
wanted to convert
the cleanest aquifer
in the world
wanted to subvert
sustainability
for another gravel pit?
Did they get dust in their eyes?
Have they so quickly forgotten the ruin
of the planets they abandoned
after their resources ran dry?
Or is the pleasure of the kill?
A Great Horned angel in the night
hoots his rendition of
Something in Blue
We long to hear a duet
but it’s a solo performance tonight
a prophecy in part
if not a command
one not heeded for a year still
I am pretending
I’m a superhero
free of mundane existence
but feeling the
weighty entrapment
of earth life
human wishes
and someone else
constantly trying
to attach his leash
to mine
though I’ve
already
been cut free
he can’t see
and
I can’t see
the further I run
the further he follows
I am searching for a memory
within this memory
5 years old
visiting Grandpa at work
he has an office
on King Street
Mom points to pigeons landing on the balustrade
rooftops next door
we’ll feed them outside
I like Newton’s pendulum on the desk
3, 3, 2, 2, 1, 1, 1, 1
concentration born from curiosity
and then starved
can’t last
so I flip the bubbler upside down
and watch the trellis of weightless
globes travel against gravity
and perhaps my airy nature
too yearns to excurse upstream
while pretending I was first
to swim against the current
last to observe
salmon beside me
same difficult journey
they got there first
yet
diluted to desk ornament
just the same
ultimately for
one other pocket’s
profit
Port McNicoll
cold night
walking in the dark
catch glimpse of the stars
favourite constellation
shines down
three suns his belt
Orion poises his arrow
toward the next step
I take
not out in the lake
the mild wish
nothing compared
to enlightened craving
this time ’round
why are we like this
I want to cry
without replicating the search
for why
negative feelings arise
in my perfect life
hauntings of a past
I’ve not lived
being just twenty-five
so where does it come from
hoo-hooooooot
sings the night
as tears sting my eyes
crystalline drops fall
tried to outrun him
so he can’t
see me
small
For this emotion
it broke me
I could not comprehend
why my mind became crazy
and I couldn’t defend
my inner wisdom being
so delicate, so fair
trampled to pieces
with curses, warfare
self-sabotaging poisons
injected nightmare
mind became muddled
emotionally impaired
reason deceptive
self-cherishing deceit
reason defective
self-deprecate, repeat
Port McNicoll
still and cold
never felt one
could feel so old
he stood beside me
tried to take my hand
I hated myself and
my life so unplanned
I couldn’t regret
the good things I gained
but it’s still hard to forgive
the way I chose to behave
and still sometimes continue
to choose bad over good
and without self reflection
feel so misunderstood
until a burning desire
a need for change
drove me out of the house
and into the street
just his following footsteps
held me down
from behind
I’m still grateful for
how patient
how kind
he was
most times
Just the
one thing
he and I
could not fathom then
was how witchery brewed
when he denied my freedom
“It’s not safe” or “I’m lonely”
I longed to ignore
silly cries of unjust fear
thrust upon me once more
those were never my fears
just the cage just the light
always pinned down
always in sight
created madness such madness
the introvert curse
visibility birthed insanity
death couldn’t be worse
some time to heal
a winter alone
a fire for warmth
all others gone
only in such
secret silence
can I recuperate
my song
only in secret
stillness
finally, raison
wisdom
sensibility
freedom from earth
release from silly senses
imagination rebirth
writer’s block lifted
hateful stories destroyed
my reality shifted
compassion deployed
a new strength within me
to combat the old
and at last my destructive
tendencies controlled
Yet
if the process isn’t
respected
or worse left
ignored
the insanity boils
despair restored
reason deceptive
self-cherishing deceit
reason defective
self-deprecate, repeat
energy overflow
must go somewhere
to make a living punching bag
not at all fair
it’s time to heal
and how is that done?
questions I should have asked
before I moved on
lacking foresight
seeing only the past
heart break by hindsight
present don’t last
soon gift is gone
life moves too fast
future moments with him
I lost too soon
tortured by choices
a steed of Doom
When the energy
comes shaking
my rib cage vibrating
a hungry ghost
screaming from within
a need for destruction
as I can’t face the fear
I can’t feel the sorrow
As anger burns thin
It just turns to tears
Though I long to clear-cut
Whole forests with the rage that I feel
I simply toss a rock to hear
the splish splash splunk
in frigid water
or tin cold plunk on
and not yet through
the ice
Port McNicoll
empty and cold
brought me to my knees
made me feel so old
first so angry
then so blue
first shaking with rage
then wrung-out-rag-used
perceived imprisonment
before breaking loose
restraints granting rope-burn
inebriated bickering to sober truce
rebuilding future
from broken past
always keen dreamers
’cause madness don’t last
Lifetime different
but shit the same
struggling still
future rebirth already
though, virgin’s path following
and rocks with pockets filling feels
fire myself, sun setting, like I feel
Madness, an exoskeleton
help me shed
shed my help
The Halfwit Writer 