Right Now, Outside

Two trees growing together.

The presumption that they will grow together

And develop roots, strong and regular

Is what's throwing me off

The pretty tableau of two attractive brunette teenagers

Succeeding
Pecks at my throat.

I thought I had angst

But now I'm realizing that the offspring of two artists 

Have twice as much weirdness
And are bound to crash;

Because

Its a fucking human life

And all one cares about is creating meaning

Perhaps spotted with happiness

Before your skin stretches over your cheekbones

And the vermin nibble your finger bones
And the stench of your rotting body
Is overwhelming even to the worms.

The stop and start has been driving me a little oddly off.

The days when my eye habitually twitched

Combined with

The nuclear -ness of a family that took vacations together

To art museums

Haunts my now fully hollow self

To start in a new place 

Change of location change of locale
Has power, somehow

But

Half of me is somewhere else 

And the words come out covered in a dusty curtain.

Our roots 

Filled with fertilizer, are being hacked and chopped and mutilated by 

Life.

Therefore, think about the idea that sometimes moving and fleeing and changing and changing

And growing up 

And out

And away

Is normal even though

For a human, nothing is normal.