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©2017 by Cody Rickett

Blog Poem — Go!

May 1, 2018

driving across Gandy bridge

in a vehicle made by the hands of

hundreds, maybe thousands, potentially millions

(we're even in the billions now, last i heard, though i wonder if the count is really true)

 

i see pelicans catching the wind close to the concrete

they hover by the guard rail

they look down upon baitfish coalescing around pilings

they swoop down to fill their gullet

 

 

the barnacles are rich with vegetation

 

sitting in a movie theater

i watch yet another Marvel flick

full of superheroes trying to save the universe from an ominous villain

 

the screen shows animated creatures, imaginary technology, spectacular battles, unexpected deaths, humorous bits to temper the tragedies

 

if Thanos acquires the infinity stones,

his power will be devastating

 

it's hyperstimulation and hypersimulation [see, what i did there was just remove the "t" to change the meaning from extreme sensory input to extreme sensory output.]

 

back on the bridge

boats skim along the crest of one multiplicitous wave

their propellers push fiberglass hulls and shred through saltwater,

leaving shallow scars

sometimes on the poor backs of manatees

 

up above

planes rip through the atmosphere with their high pitch

descending and ascending

to and from Tampa airport

 

inside my mind

an observer, a creator, a participant

yearns to write about these things

 

to capture

with an emotionally sticky net

all the parts of myself that hug the circle

trace the circumference

violently break through boundaries in front of them

 

in Deep Meditation

i wobble between desperate attempts at getting lost,

calculated strategies to construct order and harmony,

bouts of surrender to potent memories

 

my grandmother is cooking okra in an electric skillet

i can smell the slimy kernels

 

we are pouring thick batter into a waffle press

soon syrup and butter will adorn the fluffy brown-ness

 

we are squeezing oranges picked from the backyard tree

the pulp is the best kind of fiber

my tongue, throat, and stomach say so

 

here comes the rubber kickball rolling across the hard ground

i assault the ball with as much precision as possible

 

back in bed

i hold my smartphone like a pacifier

hoping to reach someone.

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