MAKE ROOM, PLEASE

Though everything is constantly disrupted
and I look inward like a fool
at the brooding sadness
which has taken on a form…

…of what?
I couldn’t say.

But I do labor to keep it concealed
until I determine whether
it’s safe to set it free or not.

The face of this malicious planet
with its definite and final heartbreaks,
about which there will be no discussions
despite what we were taught,
still does not cage us in.

Do you understand?

We are all free to go

without assistance.

If you feel the heavy desire to depart,
then go.
But please, don’t throw chairs
all over the fuckin' house.

*

Not everyone would agree that October
is the best month to proceed
what with the frigid weather leopard-crawling
up the valley hill,
like we don’t know it’s coming
And the leaves crashing into each other,
October’s crumpled cast-offs,
with their awkward descent.

The seasons will be born over and over
with me
and without me

Loss eventually fades to nothing.
It’s so devious.

It means
absolutely nothing,
I know.
But sometimes, if I remain perfectly still
I can hear the silent voices of the departed.

They’re always here.
They’re just shifting around
making room for
the next group’s arrival.