Anne Cecelia Holmes

I shine like a dying planet
and admit the problem.
People say nothing
can exist without a problem
but I am here to challenge
assumptions until I have
alienated everyone.
I imagine I must be here
for another reason and yet
my heart keeps pumping
the same blood day after day.
When you learn to strike
a balance do you then dissolve
into the scenery? I am bad
at learning. Once I learned
to speak for myself I became
someone else’s bone bag to shake.
It is not necessarily fairness I seek
but a general decency. An ordinary
soft person just once in awhile.
If all trees do is glare up at the sky,
I want to be in that kind of crowd.
Growing taller and a little insane.
What I intend is not a labor
of the body, but an exercise
in pathological refusal. I invent
rhapsodies so convoluted
I deserve a perilous journey
through biology. There is no
sense in evidence unless
it erases indulgence. I know
I am speaking on the frontier
of nothing. Arguing against
happiness is like a mind
malformation. Fortune dealt
without fortune. If I am
honest in narrative I am honest
in every kind of ceremony.
Teaching myself sorry
until the etymology changes.
It never changes. In conclusion
I believe in certain chaos.
Spectacular chaos. Timeless
tumored chaos for the sake
of nothing. I crown the day
and swallow the lake I
was born in.