Leveler Poetry Journal
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There are those who accomplish

their goals and those who give up

on them and those who keep trying

to achieve them with varying levels

of effort and urgency though the majority

perhaps  will alter, change, or otherwise advance

to set more and more goals while others

just get through somehow while not

setting up anything much

of anything. I was picking up

the phone when someone called

and instead of saying “hello” said

some random greeting, like “Hard head!”

“Hot pump!” “Periwinkle!” “Charleston

Chew!” and found it an interesting

though irresponsible way to rearrange

the perspective and lack of inspiration that

had tunneled through me and set up small,

abandoned building yards in my brain. Cars

bled past the window. Tiny trees

started to grow then stopped. The little

alluvial pond shrank and expanded

like a large intestinal organ. There were

things going on in the private lives

of investigators, lots of thing. The tone

of the sky can harden or find the numb

center that is a poem that is the elusive

explosion of quietude in which one seeks

to sit and be still for a moment

the way a canoe finds an eddy and bumps

against the stones like a sad girl eating plums.

James Grinwis