embers, all, in the embedded participatory sea

Dedicated not to him, but to the occasion of the only doctor to earn my trust

familial trauma and societal trauma are cornered near the same conspicuous dime,
standing always, a single quite note in a Yann Tiersen piece is not the difference
between family traits and societal fatigue, the difficulty to break the cycle, staggers bleak

the olive trees are colliding with the microscope on Downing St. and marchgroves
like grated emotive calamities on high ocean bridges, between here, the welling up,
and the upturned sea, waiting on the bus ride home that determines if war can end

shorn difficulties of immediate family and marriages cannot always be undone, unweighted,
though cycles can be broken, growth for individuals is easy compared to bold sacred texts,
societal infrastructure – in which we are permitted to cast blame, and indict – share hymns

the average person as an enabler, a perpetrator that keeps darkness and lost stalwart tales
in the doorstep of our evening rooms never to be set free or know the tipped pipe, unknowing
a donor to the bone marrow of holistic embedded collapse, like silent permission, pretense,
curt retreat, embers of rolling mountains, shone on the view of strangers unmasked, unabated,
pressured knots steal perspicacious beats from imperiled healing kin, forwarding attempts to feel