“A Testimonial to the Wind – to a desolate end – a voice Crying in the Wilderness”
noun prec·i·pice \ˈpre-s(ə-)pəs\
teetering TOPPLING falling off into the frozen wasteland down down down down down unto the depths the darkness hovering over the tongue of a bog that sucks your breath gasping clutching fondling final death rattle as a gift for good to free one from the morass the longing for a way to rest at last
HOW MANY HAVE BEEN LONG LOST FOR NAUGHT GONE?
workers and co-workers
staff and directors
homes for the heart
places of celebration
of love making
of fond memories
gone dissipated in the din of the fog on the Chesapeake Bay
like a clam that drifts out beyond the reef the sand bar is marooned on the rocky shelf
long lost and forlorn like seaweed swaying in the tidal onslaught as a waif that is stripped lashed bound to nowhere stranded on the shelf teetering on the edge the brink of letting go of falling precipitously downward to the ravine of Mariana’s Trench a discarded bit of debris swept away left for dead no one ever knowing that you’re dead ever frozen in a wisp of bubbles rising to the surface from many kilometers beneath the swelling troughs it is a cold desolate grave that unceremoniously rips you wayward on the roiling waves an urchin forgotten left done
WHY WHY NOT HOW HOW NOT FOR WHAT WHATEVER BEYOND REASON NAY ANY RESPONSE furious whirlwind of stars and brine that merges in one fixed cloud of disbelief a skull and bones shaking in the morass of a cyclone hovering over abandoned shores
equality for all equal rights amendment at long last a woman’s body is hers to decide how she is clad and where she goes.
we cannot end this affair without being conscious that all are welcomed all have a place all have a voice all can come in and stay and remain for good in a place to rest to die to pass along the wisdom of past generations and those yet to come