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ouroboros-57x30-inches-20091
artwork by Camille Dela Rosa https://anarchictomy.wordpress.com/

Everything reminds me of something,
As if that is all I am –
A collection of the past
Chemically preserved,
Pickled in it.

Am I nothing but the past?

At each moment
The next moment
Compresses time
Into what matters
And the matter is me.

Am I nothing but the past?

My 100 billion neurons connecting,
Passing,
Signaling each other
Like dealers.
I am a junky for the past.

Are all my actions reactions to the past?

A good housekeeper
Classifying and reclassifying
My changing neural pathways
Like canned goods in the cupboard
Easily discovered and ready to use.

Am I nothing but the past?

A dubious fool
Certain of only the uncertainty
Of me without my past –
My credence, my false God
My misunderstanding of the truth of myself.

Am I nothing but the past?

I imagine I am dreaming of a future,
But I am only
Always
Circling my past.
A dog chasing her tail.

June 7, 2015

ink circle

Today I was a circle,
Wrapping all the way
Around myself.
Completely contained.
Inward,
I extended myself outward,
Beyond.
Without ground,
I was neither here nor there.
I was everywhere.
Out of my mind.
Then, the circle moved.
Drawn in,
I moved with it.
Coming full circle,
Back to myself.

April 15, 2014

happy-dog

Returning from a long trip,
The man tops the stairs
Burdened with bags.
The tiny, fawn colored dog
Turns circles on the floor.
Turning circles into circles,
Again
And again,
Until she gains enough speed to gracefully set sail
Swiftly
Crossing the carpet.
Like an acrobat,
Ta da
The performer,
Now
Little magician,
Pulls pearly points
From behind her yap
Lightening the man’s load.

April 2013