Sonnet 5 | The events in a single literary day

(Written October 21, 2016)

  1. Lotus-eaters on Instagram.
  2. Ampersands in restaurant names.
  3. Indicators at traffic roundabouts.
  4. The events in a single literary day.
  5. The nostalgia of Christmas beetles.
  6. A touch of Google Translate between friends.
  7. A lock of hair affixed.
  8. Cheap wine & chopsticks
  9. Too much feeling all around.
  10. The scramble to reach higher ground.
  11. A sleeping totem above my head.
  12. Imitators under my bed.
  13. Speaking a far more dangerous dialect.
  14. Say with your mouth what is in your heart.

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those lost hours, when I was in the dark and disconnected, are recaptured, quickly, as I scroll through lives.

For years, I have lived the lives of others.

From the moment I wake, my body still under the spell of sleep, I reach for the glass through which I view others. My eyes are still cloudy from the sleep granules that tickle the corners. Rheum, as its more old-fashionedly known. I am in their world. It doesn’t take long. I consume the faces and bodies and words of the people I am not.

After eight uninterrupted hours, a crop of life stories has grown, and I am ready to reap. As I blink in the new morning, things play out the same. My hungry mind accommodates to the new things. My yearning cools, slowly, as I fill myself. Those lost hours, when I was in the dark and disconnected, are recaptured, quickly, as I scroll through lives.

These days, the people inside the looking glass can move, like the portraits and news photographs in Harry Potter. I notice that they always move so carelessly.

I am the farmer whose crop never never fails. It self-sustains and renews as I sleep. There is endless water. I know, and I know, and I look, and look.

And it is never enough.

-jules