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Experiment, part four

“Love one another, but make not a bond of love:
  Let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your souls.
  Fill each other’s cup but drink not from one cup.
  Give one another of your bread but eat not from the same loaf.
  Sing and dance together and be joyous, but let each one of you be alone,
  Even as the strings of a lute are alone though they quiver with the same music.”
    ~ Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet (1923)

My entire life is a vacation
Since I left the place where I locked people out of a bedroom
That no one but a thief on an inside job cared enter
And none desired to meet or touch
An uncaring state
In which I could do anything
Try anything
Be anything
No matter the struggle
What could anything matter
When most of me wasn’t there
The piece I’d let no one play
Holding back at the farm
Refusing to leave
By trick of fate

“You can’t become a witch”
She says
“Without knowing darkness
  Where you can work your magic
  And recognize the unseen”

My entire life is gravy
Since I was electrocuted in the substation
With enough juice to smoke the two-thousand-dollar multimeter
That made the connection
Set to its highest voltage calibration
After I’d made it first
To be resurrected by the very jolt
That seared its deep path through upper body and both arms
With its white arcing touch
I wondered if those who led me to reach for the deadly wire
Thought of the foreman whose forearm
Missed a hand
That’d been melted away
That could’ve been testament
To the energy hidden by our limited senses
Or to horseplay with a dispensable nerd
Since then I’ll do anything worthwhile
No matter the risk
By fluke of fate

“What could be worse”
She asks
“Than not loving your child
  Who with passing years
  Fails to recognize love?”

My entire life is an experiment
Since I’ve been five all those years
I could try anything
I could be anything
I at last began growing up
Fighting for a home
Making it mine
The first I’d known
Since I’d turned five
Years past
Refusing to move
Until all the shmucks’ money and all the shmucks’ lawyers
Couldn’t force me physically to leave again
Refusing to change
Until I learned modern practice of defending lands
Run through the single digits while practicing
Motions discovery rules of court civil and evidence code
Failing settlements before mediator then judge
Offering more than was legal
Hit my teens toward the time of trial
Took away more land than the legal minimum
Far beyond that long-past settlement
Reaching emotional puberty’s edge
Where real thirteen-year-old girls try to impress me
With pirouettes or swaying hips or cool suggestive glances
Letting their outraged parents stare
Seeking to understand what provocation I wield
It’s nothing
I’m doing nothing
But being thirteen too
Life will stride at its own pace
Make its own experiments
As the time comes to mate
Not a replacement
But a companion
Maybe more than one
So those evenings a couple wants to go out
Another couple can stay in
A different pairing or trebling for a different occasion
Leaving no one alone
On the windblown knoll that’s seen
Many a strange bird
Many a colored moon
Many a touch
Many a creature coming of age
At the rate dictated by the spheres
Retrograde or anterograde
By directive of fate

“How well it’s I who’ve raised you”
She muses
“To a world of magic
  You never left”

My entire life is art
Since those whose lives I’ve touched
Left in the street
Left abandoned or confused
Left hopeless
Bewitch this mountain by the moon’s light
The diffuse glow
That paints their shadows on sandstone
Both washed clean
Shadows and sandstone
With the oncoming storm
Whose wind plays my frets
All of them now
Deciphers my worries
All of them, too
Frees my pencil to catch joy grief curiosity
Shakes those near me now in grace and compassion
Crashes in through open doors
Welcomes its own gusts into every forgotten crevice
Presses all together with love lust passion
Clears matted dust and detritus from the wetted road without effort
Embraces in orgiastic tangles
Loosens leaves bark branches nuts from the trees braving these slopes
Swept clean
Until I too am empty
Many virtues many directions many disgraces many persons
One memory one heart one destination one consciousness
Ready as ever
For the inspiration that always returns
By energy of fate

Thanks always returns

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