Never Even Seen

 

Make it New
 
Would I recognize a new way-of- thinking
if I saw any? Out of the box:  how would I
know some if it passed me on the bridge?
 
I heard natives never even seen Spanish
ships anchored off shore. Nothing but
clouds in trees.

Rip Smash & Ruin my folks dubbed  me
when I was small and every thing I
handled went to pieces.
 
King My Dust touch.
No rancor in this nickname.
 
Had the need to take things a part.
“It broke,”  I’d tell my old man.”
IT?” he’d say. “IT  broke?” 
 
I learned irony little &  the habit of putting
the burden of things falling apart on the
thing-in-itself.
 
Even now when I sit on a rock I satanically
accuse it of  hard when truth-to-tell  hardness
is an emerging quality rising-up out of the
relationship between my butt and rock.
 
I’m as responsible for hardness as rock is—
but I practice my life long habit: reducing a
triadic relationship  to a binary and blaming
the other. 
 
Scapegoating.

An easy and conventional
epistemological convenience.
In the box. My habitattoo
 
Same with the cat:
my itchy eyes  and
ACHOO! That bastard.
Sneeze-maker!