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To Ride the River

August 23, 2011

Removing my eyes from the computer

Draws my energy down

Into my feet following a different beat


And I do not care.

Echoes of spit from the panting dog’s mouth

Splatter my pants

Hours later.

And I do not care.

The quirks in my back, my hips, neck, and arms

Tell me it is time to move.

I squirm in my chair continuing work.

And I care.

The diligence is killing me

The straight line strangling me

I cannot breathe.

And I care.

For once in my life,

I care.

Movement means flow

Flow means unstuck, like a river

Rivers let go of the rocks in their way.

I am not a river.

Too bad.

I have to work much harder

Than it seems a river has to.

The fear is what is at the bottom

The fear is what will surface

Punching its way through  my ribcage.

I care, but I do not want to.

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