How To Survive

You ask me
how I move in this
darkening world. You ask,
how do I pull through,
get by, survive?

I move as sandstorm: 
darkness rising 
in full light;

swiftly, bearing
both seen and unseen grit; 

enveloping homes, work;  in fact,
swallowing all journeys
and destinations. I pull through

while afire: consumed
by red.  Eaten by red.
Red in windows, eyes,
on the tongue. Get by as flood:

poured out, soaking in,  
flowing as though 
a wound had been torn 
in the silky, silver gut
of All.

I’ve had to be
so present
with survival

that I’ve had no time
to measure 
the past of it,
or to think about 
the future of it.
If I could, I would tell you.
I would tell everyone,
as it seems
that only some know.

If I knew
and if I could share
what I knew,
perhaps I could
save some of them.

I survive, I think,
mostly by realizing
from second to second that, 

until this moment at least,
I actually have.  


About Tony Brown

A poet with a history in slam, lots of publications; my personal poetry and a little bit of daily life and opinions. Read the page called "About..." for the details. View all posts by Tony Brown

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