love is not insane

. . . expecting nothing in return or reprise but freely given.

Love is also not fanatic or zealous forgetting its origin expansive. Never killing to prove itself a passion devoid of compassion or kindness.

Judgmental terminally so.

Drama/Trauma . . . am i too much or little—noth'n at all: arrangements made for the disposal of my remains remaining willing at a moment's notice to get off the merry-go-round. Memories abound/abide: the blessings and confessed regrets those about to do what I would gladly do: die. Finding—oddly—the will to be courageous enough to allow my heart one more beat.

I sense no script or prescription available so I make up life as I breath: one breathe at a time

with undertones/frissons of concern that I wound or mortally kill the will to live as they are in others leading them astray?!

. . . and what will i do: when, or why, i am kicked to the curb beneath the wheels of a passing Escalade driving fast past; the operator oblivious/indifferent to my dismemberment or quadriplegic remains? Joyously intoxicated with a mechanical device distracted a cellular telephone/computer texting, sexting, talking about what?

Or by they: M, P, The Interlocutor?

. . . worse? by “i” myself!

Conscious always, the remains of those still here, partially . . . complete the list yourself, never forgetting Jesus sleeping beneath newspapers under an Interstate bridge alone covered in lighter fluid set ablaze. . . .much less the foe or friendly victims of war.

More drama/trauma? Or things as they are. Reverent to all—even those irreverent to themselves save for their smug gloating greed. Never fulfilled or satisfied. Their passage annotated with corpses, mutilated, molested, taking no prisoners. — or — otherwise enslaved. Unremarkable actually but so am i.

08:58 What fine madness this dispassionate acceptance? The gratitude of an old man for love's first fiery rage should be reserved for The Interlocutor—oddly or not—seen in even my assassins. Once thought love's heart is acceptance and thence from there . . . experience . . . stone cold sober my current addictions: cigarettes and coffee

. . . feint parry thrust the match continues

clanging foils or silence panting

130512 0808 love is not insane

© 2013 by Jack Spratt - All Rights Reserved