if i hadn't gone to Oakland
perhaps, we wouldn't have met
and perhaps, she wouldn't
have left, perhaps
i wouldn't be leaving
or maybe even staying
perhaps
sigh
click click
hear the key? turning
in moments,unlocking,
exposing, unleashing
the eagle falling to flight
this, the cliche' of fables
-life is all about choices.
the simplest of math that
ignores the crooked finger
leading us to such
a star explodes, this,
is a happening
to wonder
the choice
looking to the sky, i
see a great maze
ever expanding that
calls to be explored
-if we dare
a narrow passage ahead,
a narrow passage behind
without aerial view
to cheat the way
to squat and grow moss,
a choice
to retreat to the safety
and comfort of
what's known
where fear is consoled and
mislabeled as security
and where there they wait
for your safe return
riding upon their choice dressed
in soft linen on polished tables
or
we might press on
til an open door
we discover,
enter
this is the happening
and in this place of
no shape or size
law or promise
we find doors
unlocked
and as we are one alone
only one may be entered
this the choice
this being life
this
where we meet
if i hadn't gone to Oakland
if we hadn't loved
if she hadn't left
if only i had grown moss
or returned
to where fear
dies of boredom
in shades of silhouette
but i did, and we did
and she did, and
i didn't
so here we are
surely pain and consequence
are the risk
NO!
the surety
for alone I've forged
hunger and thirst
if i hadn't gone to Oakland
and if my father hadn't
fucked my mother
that hot July night
but this is life
choices from happenings
happenings from choices
