World outside is greasy
with nonsense today; that wind
has some throat to it.
Had to get up early; no sleep
to be had with that voice
slipping around corners,
through windows, along eaves.
Anyone would prefer
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to stay in bed with that
chaos blowing so hard; rather
keep sleeping, keep screwing,
keep blank and dark and quiet
pretending it’s going to end
as quickly and silently as it began,
but it doesn’t work that way; this same
scouring windstorm has blown
from first day to this one
and all that changes is who is here
to confront it and build new shelters
among its teeth. No matter how slippery
life gets, someone always finds a footing.
No matter how loud and dirty life gets,
someone always whispers
something clean enough
to break through it. It might well
be you: uncomfortable you,
frightened you, present
and dawning and perfect,
born in this time for this time.