Ode to a Clepsydra
To the alchemist’s eye, water = emotion, and so it is
that our moments can be marked by the rise and fall of
feeling, a steady stream of anger-eager-joy-hope-faith
devotion to emotion.
Days that pass without touching the interior of
our mortal casings are deadlier
than disasters. Moments that come and
go unremembered, unmarked by impact
on our souls, are the ones we most
regret, when we consciously number our final breaths.
So let’s trade the customary tiny grains of rock, sifting
to peak beneath their ingress, for a steady liquid
stream — drain
drops. Let the pool beneath rise and w i d e n.
should be the sound of living life.
the sound of life lived well.
Watch that WHCD clip with Michelle Wolf
You will feel better.
It doesn’t matter
whether or not you agree with her, or you
think everything she said
is in good taste.
She told the truth
in a series of extended thoughts you actually
have to follow
past a second or two.
Just figuring out if you’re offended by what she said
is a worthy exercise. As is
googling it, or searching YouTube to find
the full 19-minute-plus version
from the damage-controlling peanut gallery.
Everybody’s got something to say about what
Said / we said / they said.
Make up your own mind.
You will think better.
~ Kay Lorraine
May 2, 2018
When the rain starts again, comes the relief. The relief of being loosed
from months of being careful-so-careful about how long
you let the water run at the tap
or linger in the shower.
When the rain starts at last in November,
you can forgive the desertlike stinginess of September,
thumb your nose at the fiery threats
You can smile at the sight of reclaimed waste
water spraying its broad horizontal arcs
through vertical winter showers.
And the cows look, well…
When the frogs start their horny chirping,
you all are.
Written sometime in the early 1990s