Salt Shaker

I want to break through my self and find my center,

my heart cave and chakra modem of peace and unity

the blossoming truth of reality beaming toward me lightly

sparks the mental crib of disenchantment

and brews a soup we never knew this life

or any there after before the balcony shiver climb

in the dusty wind break,

ornery shoals and grey sails against the stormy sky

the deviled bone of Earth’s roundness,

Her full belly of bass baited on my hook and wire reel it in and throw it back

cast the liquor and drop the stacks of bells the church door bells

the record sales the protest picket sign wavers and coke machines

bastard reemings down the hall shake my gyroscope

in fast wave hope of dashing for the shore

the pickled rhinestone and white liver rhinoceros

hide in the brush and trample us when we come picking at their door,

taking all the grape vines and storing them for winter like a squirrel

but we some how ended up in Africa and winter is different here

we can’t keep our acorns on the ground in a hole

or they will be swallowed by the soul and sand,

the constant racketing on my window in the rain

my body laying out before me like a soldier

a wounded woman accused and torn

born and unborn the purple morning creeping up the mountainous clouds

the blue mist of the trees fading

gradient into the sun.

I see my son born years from now

a Kosovo Albanian boy facing crest fallen in waking nightmare,

forsaking childhood in the name of bread and food

carrying water and chopping wood to lift his soul to Grace.

I’ve wasted another go of it

and found my self un-centered again

which is why the words are still separate

and my mind is desperate to find what it’s trying to cling to so painstakingly

my soul is aching and I would love to have him here quaking inside of me

but I fear that I’ve scared him away.

These four walls are not my home

rather my heart is my sacred tome of Old Testament,

the plaster firmament on which we take our stand for masterpieces

the monkeys toss feces at each other for comic relief

and Mick Jagger and David Bowie go dancin in the street

in possibly the gayest music video I’ve ever seen it was beautiful,

the muse was dutiful he

rose constantly full of breath and ready for the pricking of the vine

the blood fueled through the wine

and beat us into baskets, mummied wicker cabinets,

instagram madness I’ve lost it again.

Shut my mind off again and listen to the whispers and simples

of washberian blasphemy creeping up on me because I invite it so.

Keep your cool Caitlan and remember

that earlier today you wrote you were so happy it’s stupid,

but it is not stupid to be happy

and it is not foolish to love somebody who clearly loves you back,

stop giving a sassafras what other people think because you kick fucking ass woman.

You used to not waste any rap on the automatic reactions

of fictitious magnets of attraction,

slipping into that Latin magic is so easy every time

and you fall for it every time as if I’m saying something that matters.

I’ve gotten into the habit of letting my hair down and not wearing a bra.

I get a little self conscious about it if I’m at work

but it’s hard to be bought and won

when you are not being true to the son that you know you will have.

I’ve often thought that I am useless but then I remind myself of what I’ve found

and I return to the home in my heart

my holy engravement and pine needle

my thistle weed beetle

my crack whistle thimble and rebel scorn

grassy yet fistless to carry the thin webbing day

beating the sand into glass marbles

to fill the eye sockets of the Earth that’s in decay:

it makes me sad to say, but it is the fact at which I have arrived

and there is no denying it.

I feel like I’ve been a bad friend and lover

I spread my self too thin and need to leave room for my self:

do not split between the two but keep them together

and you’ll weather this trouble like a voodoo blues woman,

keep it grey and keep it real in this rawhide gin bucket

tuck the light in the birdcage and cast a whim on the fire,

the kindle wood briars and box elder winds in the way.