Falling Into the Fringe

My best interests
don’t exist,
swept under the
subterfuge of
my folly,
far up-creek
without a paddle,
fighting the rapids

that flail and fling me
out into the fringe,
out beyond
what’s good and whole,
far past the right turns
and suggested streets.
I scramble, swing, shatter

while my best intentions
flop around like
a fish out of water,
gasping for air
and convulsing,
writhing while bystanders
just stare and
“that poor thing.
Why do you do this
to yourself?”

So I watch
as pieces fall off,
flutter to the surface
then find themselves
drowning in lakes
of listless wandering,
trapped amongst
the amber creatures
in the stasis
of unintended intentions.

This is a collaborative piece by me and Christopher Rupley. He’s got some amazing stuff here on his blog. Go read his wonderful words!



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