We Can Breathe

Should this be a fifteen-second read?

With polish to demolish the rest of the unnerving,

sloppy goop that comes out of a poet’s mouth.

Is there room for a poet’s mouth?

While we all stand to live against

a threat that can’t see or breathe what we can.

The threat comes from spawning creativity, 

recollecting only what once was

and not what can be.

But fruitfulness that comes from

chipping away at one’s own mistakes and flaws,

severs us from the threat.

It’s the pointing at ourselves,

at society,

at life,

at what once was

and what can be

that fosters a new thread,

which in turn gives us

comfort to know we are in control.

Go ahead, take a walk,

see what your fellow

hominids say on the daily.

We want to know 

how their bellies moved,

how they guffawed,

when they saw

that man fall into the seine,

thinking he was some fish whisperer 

and his bare hands were enough to get him one.

Anything can be built upon what you’ve seen or heard.

And that’s the solution.

We can breathe.