Perspective

That’s all it is.

Few minutes ago, a funny thing happened.

I was applying for full-time jobs, maybe even a little worried at the back of my head if I’d get one on time or not. I don’t get stressed out usually. And I’m still not, but yes I was concerned.

Was.

Not anymore.

Why?

Because I saw this on Instagram from one of the people I follow on there:

“Life is fucking crazy, yo. Today’s doctor appointment confirmed my health issues are possibly ovarian and cervical cancers.”
And she posted an ultrasound of the 5 inch wide mass of cancer growing inside her.

Fuck. And I was worried about getting a job.

It’s all how you look at things I guess.

Height and Width

their hands move quickly.
twist, turn, bend then close the lap and
lock the flap
and it’s done.
the box is made.

weight. contents. bar-code. invoice.
the box is ready to leave the building.

so many layers
to the box and to us
and yet,
we are still free out of the box.

under this blue urban sky
between the infinite shadows and puddles
on the main street
Now,
like many years ago,
in addition to the height and the width,
we are
the shallow depth.

and we have memory of

us.

Perspective

This world is nothing

but a poem

– poetry without stop –

hymn, ode and epic,

poetry

still flowing,

Apollo and the Muses

chanting still.

 

Will these too

separate themselves

from me again?

 

I fear it not.

 

I’m as real as the things I see.