Kali Moss Fulcrum (Daily Planet email #1132)

Kali comes to close a door and open your window. Kali is there to test your mettle, wring you out, and set you dry. Kali will hold your hand with unyielding comfort while the rest of your body goes the other way. Kali is assisting other customers right now but might want a word with you after. Kali brings you her deep, royal-hued, endless explication (“Keep up, will you?”) of woven reasons, yours is a string, do not pull. Kali is a dream but more like a goal, though also a bit of vision and something like a diagnosis. Is there any measure of joy that is not inside or outside Kali? Kali studies her displacement, adds the reagent, subtracts your future tears and unilaterally decides: no.

You, my love, in moss-covered bark or in the grit of crushed tile from the old mall or dressed in bags, at one with the rend. My dear, you on a billboard or in snow-laced highway eddies or borne celestial on organ pipe, with not even yourself to blame. My sweetheart on a decorative plate or awakened, confused in the night on a spare room guest bed or tied to the top of a car, clotting sap and pointy-end forward, toward perhaps your last adventure. It is on this brake-light serenade in a season’s scuttle that I find you and lose you but still know where you are, for I am Marco and you are Polo and we are diametrically aligned.

In the hubbub and fervor of gathering hearts, dueling petitions, and jovial grievance, a peripheral flash of red velveteen and pure white rabbit trim. Even through the disbelief, a confidence accumulates like condensation, your foot easing off the gas – something is being done, and done for you. An impossible task, done impossibly. Mirth, constant mirth, plus some amount of manic tension, scented in smoke and tempered like glass. The whole process is optional but let’s not dig into that whole volition scene, man. At last! though: in our aisles and smiles, wiles and trials, we bind our branches in sweet jute and song, plainsong for approach, then breathless counterbalancing praise.

Daily Planet Productions Ltd.

Pay no attention to that

man behind the certain!

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The Daily Planet calendar, rejected lines (Daily Planet email #1133)

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Glass Door Elf (Daily Planet email #1131