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Parallel Streams

Ars Poetica

Bradley J Nordell
Scribe

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Photo by Nathan Anderson on Unsplash

The poet speaks
through each timeline
coiling itself
like a python of dying hope
a noose of a burning sorrow
to break free one day
from the room with no doors
and streets that are just the room.
Do you see? Sartre and Beauvoir
naked under the stars talking of
cosmic dust existentialism, and
the irony of the gods? Did you
know absolutism is
a small town gossiping
under streetlamp shadows,
sharpening their pitch forks
and lighting their torches
through Facebook rooms
and Instagram posts. They
Are coming for us,
In this world and all
timelines looped around each other
a cold hand upon your throat
silent fear in a house
of a drunk. Reality a leaf,
dancing in the air, singing
hymnal remembrances of days
to come.
Morality is fleeting as
a lover’s heart,
as she leaves for Montana
as she opens to another
man’s bed. The void between
The past and future are littered
with the weeping faces on a pond.
Nebulous meaning, jumping
Rail cars, riding blind into
The night filled with stories
never scribed by the poet
or this is just one world
In a million
Just another second
In an eternity of clocks floating
like salmon in a stream.

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