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Present Alignment

 I had studied medicine in Vienna, six months. A moth the size of wings flew impressively to my memory of Vienna, beer gardens, brilliant lectures, and those days and attendant nights. O the waltzes, the psychoanalysts in their wood-paneled supremacy, music plucked vine-fresh from piano keys, expansions of hardened bratwursts in the market. And medicine, the clear wooing of tense gods for betterment and salutes. I would help the populace with a candid use of my educated presumptions. My hopeful eyes trained on a future of health-giving consultations. My patients would receive my advice as payload. Listen!

Place bitter feet in a bucket of warm salted water. Rise at dawn and wrap all arms around a logically soothing tree. Wear a wool scarf while jumping fitfully, 30 minutes. Stand poised upon a granite boulder, gathering deep breaths and a promise of future rancour towards opiates.

And then:

crow going lasts a wingspread above plane earth over map and features into day as porous as light fierce edge of seen tree in populous winter light

The endeavour of future days collides with the present enormity and commitment. Rocks won’t bear us forever but the capitalist scoundrels will endlessly toll their ranking bells. Perhaps we will rise refreshed, the boon of spring, if the doctor in me sees fit. We have all seen our works fall uncompleted, but, in truth, abide…


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