Part of a larger whole
Unremarkable
But the cardinal article
Of my joy that day.
I’ll set the scene:
4 years
3 spokes
2 gears
1 wheel
Cold, I climb the acclivity and
cut across the cure-thru
of the CVS
and see the essence
of something
beautifully
mundane.
Little wheel,
your rubber is ouroboros,
your spokes three clock hands,
gear-rust itself is metaphor enough,
I’d kneel at your demands.
A thief,
an owner of a lock,
the employees of a store,
all needed to ignore you, have ignored you
for all these years
to bring me this levity.
Every time I come ashore,
There. You. Are.
I’d like to steal you,
in the dead of the night,
put you in my heart
and carry the coincidence
forever.
But damn it all,
your importance, I’ve renoticed
is locked to the rack.
I’d steal the rack then.
I could fit it — if I stretch:
the wheel,
the lock,
the rack,
and the crumbles of concrete that come with.
I should know though,
scion of the Consumer Value Store and
sage of the parking lot:
those contexts and their consequences
cannot be cleaved either.
I’m afraid
the wheel,
the lock,
the rack,
the crumbles of concrete that come with,
the CVS,
and the parking lot all couldn’t fit.
My heart is meant for small joys,
taken in measured doses prescribed.
So please,
proceed on your pilgrimage.
It’s my gift to you.