Noon is my darkest hour
\nfor it absolves me of my shadow.
\nNow to water the orchids
\nand straighten the postures <\/p>\n
of dolls in seaside rooms.
\nThe protagonist won\u2019t not
\nwake from the coma. No man
\nis an island but he can be <\/p>\n
stranded on one. As is nature\u2019s
\ncustom, the leaves applaud
\nthroughout the wind\u2019s performance,
\nnot before or after, as words,<\/p>\n
words, words swirl and natter
\noverhead, moving exactly
\nat the speed of thought,
\nwith its nervous saccades.<\/p>\n
Try as I might, I can\u2019t escape
\nhaving the time of my life.
\nThe key sinks its teeth in the hole
\nand the door falls to pieces.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
One art of ancient Chinese vivisection
\nrequired an executioner sustain
\nhis subject\u2019s wakefulness throughout
\na thousand ceremonial incisions,
\nlest he endure the fate he failed to master.
\nIn those days, you could tell a scholar
\nby the stained cuffs of his robe-sleeves,
\nthrough which he strained sophisticated teas
\nas he drank. Commissioned engravers
\nchiseled into the cliffs of sacred mountains \u2013
\nin fonts fashioned after the emperor\u2019s
\nhand \u2013 giant poems and koans, auspicious
\nwaymarkers for His Radiant Highness
\nto contemplate upon the mists of heaven. <\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
to A., for our millennial twenties<\/em><\/p>\n Besandaled, you burned up the Bush years I was your live-in, on-call, tag-along dildo, So what did it matter you touched down to sell out preoccupied, unemployed, paranoid, bookish Thoughts of a Dry Brain in a Dry Season Noon is my darkest hour for it absolves me of my shadow. Now to water the orchids and straighten the postures of dolls in seaside rooms. The protagonist won\u2019t not wake from the coma. No man is an island but he can be stranded on one. […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":294,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_is_tweetstorm":false,"jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":[]},"categories":[371,372],"tags":[375],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"yoast_head":"\n
\nand the sub-prime crisis without denting your wallet.
\nYour father footed the overhead
\nfor the handheld device in your back pocket.
\nPressing its buttons set your face aglow.<\/p>\n
\ndysfunctional, tailing the comet of you through
\nthe cordoned boustrophedon of an airport queue.
\nSometimes if I behaved and asked politely,
\nyou let me have your cunt and eat it too.<\/p>\n
\nand dig in your heels for the bonus and raise?
\nJakarta, Lagos, Stuttgart, Bogot\u00e1\u2026
\nYou hit the ground running. I was just a phase,
\nfat to trim, clutter on your desk space,<\/p>\n
\nand spineless, disappearing in a cloud of ink.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"