on life rafts & weekday baths

just when you think there is no way. forward. further. to forever feel. the spicket twists. the pocket pools. moods & plots turn. compass dials spin. north becomes south. east becomes west. water sprays then streams. subtle rains simmer then spread. layers of lilac & lavender linger. small pockets of air turn heavy. weight dissipates. worldly wonderings (& worries) dissolve. we wait. momentarily. of (& for) moments turned minutes turned mist. mostly mystical. sometimes mythical. zeus often appears in fog. mirrors become mirages. poseidon’s armies settle. hercules rises & rolls. sponges breathe. we bathe in spaces with no boundaries. in porcelain crates with no pores. toes stretch. time taps, then laps. softly. tick. tock. all tips engaged. stains blend with spaces previously secure. senses no longer enraged. paradoxes persist. minds on momentary pause. we make (then take) a bath (life raft).

12 (plus) ways to take (& make) a bath

1.    Plug paper tubes. Rotate tube dials.
2.    Stream tunes. Tune thoughts.
3.    Paint nails. Nail lyrics.
4.    Lock doors. Donate fleeting flocks.
5.    Consume flicks. Flick flies.
6.    Feather fine braids. Raid resources & cabinet balms.
7.    Pluck strays. Straighten recollections.
8.    Squish then push cotton towel blends. Consume push back of towels & fabrics.
9.    Prime (time). Stuff (fluff).
10.    Stave/starve seconds. Trash temptation.
11.    Wave to feathered friends. Waddle while wading. Wait to weigh.
12.    Persist amidst pandemonium. Fold fingers. Fold toes. Unfold fiction.