Relative Something

.

.

wandering
farther and farther away
from
that place
of comfort and familiarity
suddenly
it dawns on me
and I realize
I’ve been out all night

.

.

.

.

.

for ten years
dark secrets
work tirelessly
hiding out
in plain view
to do whatever it is
we don’t want to know
up or down
we hear
but we don’t listen
always eager
to notice
the next new and shiny
that quietly demands
attention
away

.

.

.

.

it’s all right there
in plain view
relatively little
balanced on a dime
steeped in the essence
of a bear of little brain
on any given day
Winnie-the-Pooh
doesn’t know what to do
and the rest of us
analyze
long words like
anthropomorphize
only to wake up
and feel
like [the voice
that defines] Eeyore
sounds

.

.

.

.

any
calm day
hunting
for treasure
is nothing more
than one clue
leading to another
and nothing ever ends
when distraction
is the rule
and the dream
that inspires
a chase
ends up having
inorganic origins
that drip
drip
drip
like an old and leaky faucet
.

.

.