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.

Survival: 
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.  

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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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